Walk Away
by Santai
Summary: As much as he tries to hide it, Gabriel can't bare seeing those he loves hurt. Especially Sam. It's happened again and this time he takes drastic measures to stop it once and for all.  EDIT: Post Apocalypse, slight AU  Sam x Gabriel later
1. Chapter 1

Hospitals had never been a favourite haunt for Gabriel. To him they were just collections of men, women and children suffering pain and misery that they had often done nothing to deserve, making them the embodiment of the opposite of what the Archangel had come to stand for. The thick air of melancholy that resonated through the building made him uncomfortable. And so did knowing that he could cure everyone in the building with a snap of his fingers but also knowing he was not allowed. His father had always told him not to interfere and to let life run its course. Gabriel had gone against that enough with his escapades as the just desserts dealing Trickster, and he just didn't have permission to perform such a miracle.

In all his life on Earth he had only been able to bring himself to enter a hospital twice. Once was when it was in the process of burning down and quite frankly he would have deserved to have his wings ripped off if he didn't help those trapped inside. The second time was now.

The Archangel was in a private room in the ICU, standing beside the only bed in it, gazing at its occupant stoically. Blood stained bandages encircled the man's head, a thick white tube snaked from his mouth to somewhere in the vast array of wires and bleeping machines. The loose hospital gown was hanging open slightly at the front; giving a peek at the red soaked dressings covering his torso that the doctors had covered him with at the end of their emergency surgery. Which had been a waste of time. As soon as the medical staff had vacated the room, Gabriel healed everything with a brush of his fingertips. Still, seeing Sam in such a state pained him.

The younger Winchester was still unconscious, but it didn't worry Gabriel. He had left him that way on purpose so that the Archangel could say what he wanted to say without being interrupted.

He stood there silently for a minute longer, trying to work out to phrase his last words, to turn them into a light-hearted joke that, were he awake, would make his Sammy laugh. But every time he did, he cursed himself. Everything was a joke to Gabriel. He couldn't be serious, because being serious meant that people would know what you felt. Knowing what you felt leaves you exposed and vulnerable. What kind of Archangel was exposed and vulnerable? The Archangel cursed himself again. He was just as emotionally constipated as Dean and Cas.

Another minute passed and he rubbed the side of his face, running his hand up and through his hair before letting it drop back against his side limply, "I'm sorry, Sammy. It won't be happening again."

With that he reached out and laid a hand on the Winchester's forehead and closed his eyes. It only took a second before he withdrew his arm, brushing his fingers through Sam's long brown hair not entirely by accident. He allowed himself one last sweeping gaze before turning away and striding quickly for the door to leave before he changed his mind.

Dean and Cas stood quickly as the Archangel closed the door behind him.

"It's done," he said simply, not looking up from the door handle, "He'll wake up in a few minutes."

Dean licked his lips and nodded, relief evident on his face, "Thanks," he breathed as his shoulders relaxed a little, but not all the way.

A flicker of a false smile appeared momentarily on Gabriel's face when he finally turned away from the door, "Yeah, well, least I could do," he muttered, then took a deep breath and forced a cheery mask into place, "Well! I'd better be off. Things to see, people to do, you know the score."

Just as he lifted his arm to snap his fingers, Cas reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, "I wish you wouldn't do this brother."

Gabriel rolled his eyes, but his arm lowered slightly, "I'm doing the kid a favour, Cas."

Dean snorted, "A favour? Yeah right, you're taking the coward's way out. You were getting close, Sam was just coming to think there was actually something good in his life and BAM you up and leave."

The Archangel's expression darkened, "Something good? He nearly died because of me," he snapped, "Again! I am sick and tired of watching the people I care for get their guts ripped out because they know who I really am."

"Then what about us, huh?" he gestured between himself and Cas, who was still gripping Gabriel's jacket sleeve, "We know who you are, why aren't you wiping our minds?"

The familiar look of 'are you serious' dropped over the Archangel's features, "Ruffles over there is a big angel, he can take care of himself. As for you," he paused to look Dean up and down, "Well you've got your own guard dog here don't you? Besides, I don't like you as much."

Dean was silenced but glowering. Satisfied he had gotten his point across he looked to Cas, a warning in his eyes. The angel released Gabriel's jacket and stepped back, defeated. There was a snap fingers and the Archangel was gone without another word. Dean and Cas shared a look before hurrying into the room.

Sam was awake and offered a weak smile as they entered. He had already managed to pull the breathing tube from his mouth and was sat up in the bed.

"Sammy!" Dean beamed as he entered, throwing himself into the chair beside the bed, dragging it closer that he could talk to his brother easier, "How you feeling?"

Sam looked over himself a minute, thoughtfully, before nodding, "Yeah, feel fine, head's a bit fuzzy though. What happened?"

Dean frowned a little, "You don't remember?"

Sam shook his head, "And also, who was that angel you guys were talking to outside? He seemed pissed."

Cas and Dean shared an anxious look before Dean licked his lips.

A frown furrowed Sam's brow, "What? He was an angel wasn't he? I was watching through the window and saw him disappear. If it was demon, you would killed him, so come on, who was it?"

"You didn't recognise him?" Cas asked, tone measured.

Sam raised his eyebrows as he looked up at the familiar angel standing on his other side, "Should I have?"

Dean shared another sad look with Cas before sighing, "He came in last minute and saved your ass," he answered, hiding his anxiousness with a chuckle, "Fixed you up before Cas and I could get to you."

"Well, he did a pretty good job. I'll have to remember to thank him next time I see him," Sam decided checking himself over.

"You probably won't be seeing him again," Cas commented, earning a scolding glance from Dean. Not that Sam seemed to mind. The younger Winchester nodded with a quiet 'oh' before shrugging.

"Shame, I would've bought the guy a drink and everything," he smirked.

Dean raised and lowered his eyebrows quickly, "Yeah, I bet you would have."Sam shot him a questioning look, but Dean waved it away, "Doesn't matter, let's just get you out of here."

* * *

><p>Sam didn't see much of the journey to Bobby's. It hadn't taken long for them to unhook him from the supercomputer's worth of machines and sneak him out to the Impala parked in the car lot and once they had set off, Sam promptly fell asleep, not without a little help from the angel in the back seat.<p>

"So?" Dean asked hurriedly, stealing glances over his shoulder, torn between trying to gauge Cas's reaction and keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

Cas continued to gaze contemplatively at Sam as he retracted his hand from the human's forehead before turning his head to look at Dean, features set, "It appears that Gabriel was true to his word."

There was a pause as Dean waited for further explanation. When it didn't come he twisted a little to raise his eyebrows at Cas momentarily before checking the road again, "What, so Sam has no idea who the guy is?" he asked quickly, "None at all?"

"Well it seems that the man we know to be the Archangel Gabriel, Sam will know only as his alias, the Trickster," his voice was neutral as it always was, a stark contrast to Dean's whitening knuckles and clenched jaw, "At the hospital, Sam didn't get a good enough look at my brother to recognise him as either."

"But what about everything else?"

At the uncertain silence, Dean turned to see Cas's forehead creased a little. He quickly looked back to the road, suddenly stuck for words. He hated talking about emotions and feelings and all the lovey dovey crap that went along with it anyway. It just made it harder when it came to talking about his brother and a surprisingly forward Archangel. Instead he just made a small gesture with one hand and muttered something incoherent that he hoped Cas would understand. A glance over his shoulder informed him he was wrong. Dean licked his lips, and tried again.

"You know, how they...felt. How they were," he looked again and rolled his eyes at the angel's increasingly perpetual expression of non-understanding, "With each other."

Realisation laced Cas's features before he shook his head, "No, that has been brushed aside. To Sam, the two of them have met twice. In fact to his knowledge, the Trickster is dead."

Dean slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel, "I hate your brother, you know that?"

Cas nodded a little ruefully, "Yes, I thought you might do."

* * *

><p><strong>Hey guys! If you've gotten this far then i assume you kinda liked it at least a little? Well if you did then please let me know...I geniunely do a little dance everytime someone leaves a review or favourites or whatever. It's like drugs. Seriously. <strong>

**Just so you guys know, this is the same universe just a slight alternate timeline from Hammer of the Gods on wards in which (slight spoiler alert) Gabe doesn't die and instead helps them defeat Lucifer. However, because Gabriel helped them defeat Lucifer Bobby never made a deal with Crowley and so never got the use of his legs back and unfortunately in my headcanon the angels are still under certain strict rules about that sort of healing...so yeah...**

**Anyway! there will be more to this, how much more and exactly what that the more will be is still to be completely combed through and sorted out so just bare with me, pretty please? **

**for serious i love you guys so much for reading through it xD *hugs for everyone***

**xxxxx**


	2. Chapter 2

Sam stretched his arms over his head and yawned as he climbed out of the Impala, skilfully closing the door with his foot as he went. He'd only woken from his angel induced nap a few moments before Dean had pulled up outside Bobby's, giving him just enough time to shoot dark looks at the both of them before they came to a stop. While he was unconscious Dean must have called ahead seeing as Bobby was already outside, parked beside the doorway, casting a scrutinising gaze over Sam as he approached; a look that Sam returned with a tired smile.

"You don't look half bad for a guy who's just been gutted," he commented as Sam towered over him.

Sam shrugged, "Yeah well, I've seen worse," he gave a little smile and clapped a hand on Bobby's shoulder as he brushed past and into the house itself.

It was in the same dishevelled state it was normally in. It was comforting. Bobby's run down, untidy, almost falling apart house was always the same; a constant pillar in the Winchesters' otherwise tempestuous life that Sam needed now more than he had realised. Though, with his fractured memory it didn't seem like long ago that he was here. Taking a deep breath of the stale, smoky air, he relaxed slightly then moved from the study into the kitchen, eyes fixed on the fridge. An alcoholic drink was desperately needed.

"Hey, sorry for the lack of beverages," Bobby's voice floated from the hall; he, Dean and Cas were apparently still in the doorway, "I haven't exactly been the most mobile little housekeeper recently."

Sam paused in the process of reaching into the open fridge to pluck one of the brown bottles from the anything but empty shelf to frown. After a second he shrugged it off and grabbed one, "What are you talking about? There's plenty," he called back, turning away from the fridge and shutting it behind him as he wandered across the room to the desk, opening his beer as he went. He could hear the other three talking in the corridor, their voices were too muffled and hushed for him to understand the topic but he could make a pretty good guess.

"How's your tea party going?" he enquired loudly, absently leafing through one of the books laid out on Bobby's desk. It was one he'd already read. He sighed and closed the book, lifting his head to see Dean enter, Cas and Bobby close behind.

"I was just giving Bobby a catch up," Dean explained apologetically, heading straight through to the fridge, "You said there was beer right?"

Sam nodded, taking a swig of his own, "Yeah, loads."

Bobby frowned and grumbled to himself about how unfair it was that beer magically appeared for the Winchesters but not for him as he wheeled himself across the room and behind his desk.

Sam smirked and eased himself down into a nearby chair, "Hey, seeing as Bobby got the whole story, mind telling me?"

Dean hesitated, then pulled the fridge door open, not answering Sam's question. There was a quiet chink of bottles as the older brother took two beers from it. He didn't still reply as he returned, placing one beer on the desk for Bobby before dropping onto the sofa, knowing full well Cas would have declined one even if he was offered. Sam raised his eyebrows expectantly, making Dean stop mid-swig and sigh as though disappointed that his brother hadn't forgotten that he'd asked the question in the first place.

"Well there isn't much to tell," Dean replied with a shrug, "Except that you got your ass royally handed to you by some bitch with a bad case of PMS."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's poor attempt at an insult. Any other time, he would have risen to it and shot something back but right now he was tired and too confused to bother. It was disconcerting having a completely blank memory. The only thing he wanted to do was fill it and he knew that fighting with Dean right now wasn't going to help that, "Yeah, I got that much thanks. But who was it? I mean, it looks like you two got off unscathed."

"You were the specific target," Cas answered, before answer Dean's scolding look with a confused frown.

Sam glanced between them, waiting for a further explanation. When it didn't come he filled the silence himself, "What? Why?"

"We don't know," Dean answered quickly, probably to make sure that Cas didn't get a chance, "We didn't exactly get time to stop for a chat over coffee and cake."

Sam's frown persisted, "So you saw them? You know who it is?"

"No, we don't," Dean repeated, more forcefully this time.

Sam's expression became wounded at the tone of Dean's words. It was clear he was hiding something. He continued to look desperately at his brother, hands out in front of him, "Come on Dean, throw me a bone, you gotta know something..."

The elder brother exhaled forcefully and ran a hand through his hair, the only flicker of conflict in his otherwise steadfast posture, "Well we don't," he said finally slumping back in the chair and fixing Sam with a steadfast look. His tone rebuked any argument before Sam could even think of one, "So just drop it, alright?"

With that he looked away, avoiding Sam's hurt, disbelieving gaze. After a long moment of getting nothing from his brother, Sam looked to Cas for something, anything that might help him find his way through the hazy mess that was his mind. But the angel had taken his cue from Dean and was looking to the floor. The silence was final. Sam swallowed and nodded to himself, "Right. Thanks for the help," he muttered, standing violently and storming from the room, heading for the front door. Just as he pulled it open he caught sound of Bobby's gruff voice.

"Why don't you just tell him?"

There was a short pause before Dean answered, "He's better off not knowing."

Sam didn't stick around to hear any more. The door slammed on his way out.

It was pleasant outside, the sun was out but a gentle breeze alleviated most of the heat leaving only comforting warmth. Sam stopped a moment on the porch to take a calming breath then descended the stairs into the car graveyard that Bobby kept. He just needed some air. It wasn't often that he woke up in a hospital bed, with no memory of why or how he got there. It was disconcerting to say the least. What didn't help was Dean's sudden frostiness and apparent refusal to help him sort his head out. Sam snorted and went to swig once again from his bottle but just as it brushed his lips, he found a better use for it, as a vent for his annoyance. The glass shattering over the wall was satisfying.

"Aren't you going to go after him?" Bobby asked, looking pointedly between Dean and the door.

Dean sighed and swallowed another mouthful of drink before he answered, "Like I was saying before Sam interrupted us, it's not that easy."

"Oh, then what is it?"

"It was Gabriel."

Bobby blinked, "Gabriel? You mean Sam's Archangel, bunk buddy, Gabriel?"

Dean wrinkled his nose at Bobby's description then nodded, "Yeah. That'd be him. "

Bobby's eyebrows knitted together, "What the hell does he have to do with this?"

"This is his doing," Dean answered with another frustrated tug at his hair, "Cas and I, we couldn't get anywhere near Sam when he was... Anyway, Gabriel went in there and drove the bitch off while we got him to a hospital. The things she had done..." Dean took a moment to gaze at the floor, "I honestly don't know how he was still alive...Our Archangel buddy found us at the hospital while Sam was in the OR, told us what he was planning to do; to erase all memory of the Archangel Gabriel from Sam's mind."

"Why didn't you stop him?" Bobby asked, almost accusingly.

Dean raised his eyebrows, "Sorry, my archangel stopping powers were a little run down after the whole fiasco."

Bobby leant forward, elbows on the desk, rubbing his face with his hands, "And now you don't wanna push it in case the whole thing comes flooding back."

"Yeah, leaving us with not only a messed up Sam, but a pissed Archangel on my back as well," Dean agreed, staring intently at the bottle he was rolling in his hands.

That night was clear. The stars were out and the moon glowed bright enough for Sam to see without having to use a torch. Not that he was moving around that much. He lay quietly in the same place he had been for the last few hours, laid out on the bonnet of one of the old gutted cars in Bobby's lot. His back was against the windshield and arms up behind his head, staring up at the stars. It had taken a while for him to calm down after Dean's refusal to help him and now that he was more relaxed he actually began to probe his memory to try to just pinpoint what was there and what wasn't.

Everything from the past week was missing. There was just nothing; a blank. For all he knew, the previous seven days never happened. But he knew that already. What was really strange was the fact that as Sam began to look further back; seemingly random fragments of memory were missing. A day here, a couple more there. A few were just missing segments of conversation that had been glazed over. The conversation was there, some of the phrases just slipped through his grasp like smoke but there was nothing connecting them. Sometimes the gaps came during times he and Dean were on hunts. Other times he was alone in motel rooms, researching things on his laptop. The lack of pattern was what was frustrating Sam above the fact they were missing in the first place. If there was no pattern then there was no way of working out what the memories could have been. It wasn't helped by his brother's apparent refusal to tell him anything about his lost memories. He may defend his innocence until he was blue in the face but he couldn't hide anything from Sam.

"Hey Sam!"

Speak of the devil...Sam turned his head to watch Dean approach without responding to his call. He wasn't going to afford him that courtesy.

"Sam, what you doing out here? It's been hours," Dean tried again when he reached the car that Sam had claimed as his seat.

The younger brother regarded Dean for a moment, "What do you want Dean?" he asked flatly, "You got anything you want to explain yet?"

Dean sighed and looked to the floor, "We don't know anything." Sam scoffed. "But Cas and I, we're gonna head back and see if we can find anything out."

Sam frowned and he sat forward causing the rust bucket he was sat on to creak, "You and Cas? What about me? Maybe if I go, it'll kick start my memory and - "

"No," Dean interrupted, "Maybe it's better if you stay here."

Sam just stared at his brother, eyes narrowed slightly as a look of reluctant revelation washed over his features, "You don't want me to get my memory back!"

Dean shook his head quickly as a feeble attempt to deny it, "No, man, it's not like that. I'm just wondering that maybe there's a reason for the loss and until we figure out if there is or not its better not to push it," he explained.

There was that tone again. The 'shut up and don't ask questions' tone that Dean used whenever he tired of arguing. Sam shook his head and leant back against the windshield of the car. What was the point of arguing now?

"Whatever," was the only response Sam could be bothered to mutter and Dean was lucky to get that much.

A hint of regret flickered over Dean's face before he nodded to himself, "We'll be in touch soon," he told his silent brother before turning and walking away, back towards the house.

They must been working on this plan for the entire time Sam had been outside because Dean went right past the front door in the direction of the Impala. Sam returned his gaze to the stars and quickly became too lost in his own frustration to even register the sound of the car starting up.

Dean was driving off leaving Sam alone in the dark, in more ways than one. His memories were broken and foreign now that large gaps separated each section; and now his brother had not only refused to tell him anything, he was actively trying to stop Sam from doing something that might help his situation. A muscle strained in his neck as his jaw clenched. The only one he could have turned to had abandoned him. He was on his own.

An image flashed up in his mind. The image of the unknown angel berating Dean and Cas for some reason or other at the hospital. The memory made him smirk.

The car creaked and strained as Sam shifted so that his legs were hanging over the edge of the bonnet, hands in his lap.

"Thanks..." he muttered then gave a breathy, embarrassed laugh before continuing, "I'm not used to this whole prayer thing except for, you know, calling Cas. I mean I don't even know if you can hear me, but hell what else can I do?" he paused to gather his thoughts and attempt to word them, "So hey, I was wondering, could you help me? Just once more...I don't remember anything...a lot of my past is just missing. I just want to understand why? I can see where the last week has gone but the other bits...is there a pattern?" he broke off to leave space for an answer. None came. Sam released the breath he didn't realise he'd been holding and hung his head, "Right, ok then. It was a long shot anyway."

That was it. Even his guardian angel had left him.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you liked! Yeah, I know it took a little while to update but I wanted to make sure it was all right for y'all. Neeway, i would love to know what you think...reviews are the candy to my Gabriel <strong>

**LOVE YOU ALL FOR GETTING TO THE BOTTOM OF THE CHAPTER**


	3. Chapter 3

With a frustrated sigh, Dean lowered the flashlight and clicked it off. He had spent the whole day searching the condemned hospital building and had found jack squat. The place was empty. The only living things were the occasional rat that scurried away from the light, almost swimming through the dust that had piled up on the old broken tiles of the floor over the unknown number of weeks the place had been empty. The room Dean was searching probably used to house one of those massive CT scanners judging by the large open space and the viewing area behind a window. The glass was gone, though shards of it still clung to its edges glinting as torchlight glided over them. This was the room that she had been keeping Sam. The remnants of what had happened were still present in the disturbed layer of dust on the floor and the dried bloodstains on the once white walls. Dean tried not to look at those too close as he had searched the room for any trace of the woman, who she was or where she had gone.

"I found nothing."

Dean physically tensed when a voice lanced through the silence. Taking a breath to relax his muscles, Dean turned to find Cas stood by the door, watching him neutrally, "Nothing? At all?"

Cas shook his head, "I'm sorry Dean. There is no sign of her. I don't understand it either."

Dust fell from Dean's hair as he ran his free hand through it, "Just freaking great," he muttered angrily, kicking his shoes against the floor.

There was a pause before Cas tilted his head as though listening to something, "I'll try again," he announced then disappeared before Dean even had chance to acknowledge his intentions.

Dean sighed, flicked the flashlight back on and began to once again scout the room. He was determined to find whoever or whatever it was who had hurt Sam and he was going to make her pay for what she had done. First he had to find her. For a moment, his thoughts drifted to Sam back at Bobby's and a pang of guilt echoed in his mind. It was the best way, he told himself yet again. Whatever Sam had forgotten had been forgotten for a reason and until he knew exactly what it was, Dean wasn't going to let his brother wade in and possibly trigger it. It was that reasoning that had brought him to the decision to leave Sam behind. It had nothing to do with the possibility of annoying an Archangel, none at all.

"They say your ears burn when something is thinking about you," someone muttered behind him, making Dean flinch more violently this time.

He whirled to find Gabriel sat on the ledge of where the sheet of glass used to be, an amused glint in his eyes as he enjoyed Dean's momentary panic.

Dean glowered at the Archangel, "I wasn't thinking about you," he snorted.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, "Yeah right, whatever, aren't you supposed to be Sasquatch watching?"

"Sam's fine."

"You know that do you?" Gabriel retorted, a challenge in his eyes.

Dean's jaw tensed but he didn't get a chance to answer.

"Because obviously you knowledge of the deeper workings of Sam's psyche is far greater than that of one of the most powerful beings in the universe," Gabriel continued, speaking as though the concept was nothing more than a simple revelation to him, a teasing half-smile on his face, "Thank Dad, you're here. What would the world do without you?"

Tension pulled on the muscles in Dean's neck as he fought the urge to step forward and punch the Archangel in the face, "What do you want?"

"I want to talk," came the simple reply.

"About what?"

Gabriel held up a finger, "Now that depends on whether or not you're going to do that thing where you pointlessly argue against everything that is right in front of you."

"And if I am?" he didn't know where his defiance was coming from but it was Dean's only shield and he clung to it like a lifeline.

The Archangel shrugged, "Then we could discuss the finer points of poetry if you wanted. Or debate the meaning of life," he paused to level Dean with a flat gaze, "But if you were to surprise me by actually listening to a word I said, I want to talk to you about how your baby brother is at home tearing himself apart from the inside out, while you're off on a romantic weekend away with Awkward McTrenchyton."

Dean's expression darkened, "I didn't want Sam to get hurt. With his current mental state I didn't want to push anything."

Gabriel pursed his lips and nodded pensively as he hopped down off the ledge, falling at least half a foot before landing in a plume of dust, "See, the problem is, while you're nobly trying to protect your brother's mind, Sammy-boy is left in a deep dark hole with no one to give him a leg out."

"Oh yeah? And who was it dug that hole, huh?" Dean spat angrily.

The Archangel raised his chin at the comment, "Let's not go there hm? I was hoping to avoid playing the blame game."

At that, Dean's eyebrows shot up, "Not play the blame game?" he took another moment to refrain from strangling Gabriel. It would only end badly for him, "Me and Cas are here trying to clean up the mess that you left behind," he pointed and accusing finger in Gabriel's direction, who arched an eyebrow but made no other response. After a beat, Dean rubbed a frustrated hand over his face before holding his arms out to the sides, "Why do you even care? I thought you were cutting all ties," he spat out the last sentence like it was a bad taste in his mouth.

"I was trying," Gabriel replied forcefully, even before Dean had finished speaking, "But Sam is desperate. For Christ's sake, the kid is _praying_!" the Archangel yelled, leaning forwards with the force of his words as a burst of pent up aggravation leaked into his words. But it was quickly covered over as he straightened and looked to the wall, muscles in his cheek working as he ground his teeth.

A moment of tense silence passed between them as Dean frowned, confused, "To you? He doesn't know who you are."

The Archangel rolled his eyes then looked at Dean, "Would you like a cape, Captain Obvious? He's praying the faceless angel he saw at the hospital, which was me. He doesn't have to know my name to get the message across. I'm guessing by the dumbstruck look you're trying to hide that you were the one who told Sam what I am. Ten points from you."

Dean answered the insults with a glower, "So block them out! You guys seemed to do that pretty well most of the time."

With a deep breath, Gabriel looked to the floor, "It's not that simple..."

The glower melted into another frown before realisation washed over his expression, "Oh, I see how it is! You can't block them out because you feel guilty as hell that this whole messed up soap opera is your fault!"

Gabriel's eyes locked on Deans, dark and threatening, "I told you not to go there," he said, an unspoken warning twisted into his words.

"No! I'm going there," Dean replied, ignoring the small part of him that was reminding him just how easily and how imaginatively Gabriel could kill him, "Sam gets hurt then you roll in cavalry style, save his ass from whatever it was that had him, heal him up and then wipe all trace of your existence from his mind. Now you crawl back to me, whining that you can't cope with that fact that Sam's in pain again, because of you. So, here's an idea! Fix it. Give Sam his memories back and the two of you can skip merrily off into the sunset, or whatever it was that you two did."

The Archangel had remained silent throughout, staring fiercely at the ground, fists clenched so tight his knuckles had gone white and Dean wouldn't have been surprised to see blood when he next opened them, "I can't."

Light from the torch danced around the room as Dean threw up his hand in exasperation, "Is stubbornness like a family trait? Because you guys just shine with it."

A crack resonated around the room and the glass that still hled desperately to the wall shattered. Dean threw an arm up to protect his face from the flying shards and waited a moment to be sure it was safe before lowering it again. A long singular fracture now streaked across the wall that Gabriel was standing in front of. Dean blinked at the sight. The voice that had once been so quiet was suddenly joined by a chorus of others.

A breathy chuckle escaped Gabriel's lips at Dean's reaction, "You don't know how much effort it's taking not to rip you apart right here and now. Now, you listen to me, I can't carry out your wonderful and elaborate plan because of one thing. The queen bitch that had Sam in the first place will use them to find him. And so will every other S.O.B. who holds a grudge against me. And there is a long, long list. Which is why, as Cas has probably already told you, Sam thinks I'm dead."

Dean's original strong stance had wavered slightly, knowing full well Gabriel had done nothing but blink when he nearly a tore thick cement wall in two. The Archangel just had to twitch an eyelid and Dean would be coating the floor and walls like some kind of lumpy wall paper paste. He took a moment to calm himself before attempting to talk again. His first attempt came out a few octaves higher than intended and served only to brighten the glint of amusement in Gabriel's eyes.

"So you know who it was who got Sam?" he asked, with forced calm.

"Of course I know," Gabriel snapped, though his fists had loosened slightly, "I just don't know where she is...Oh don't look so surprised. Tricksters have a knack for it, why do you think I entered the profession in the first place?"

"A Trickster then?" Dean made a mental note of it, "And she's off the celestial radar?"

"That's one way of putting it," the Archangel conceded, then took a deep breath and flexed his fingers in an attempt to calm himself further, "I need more mundane methods."

"And by mundane you mean me?"

A smirk laced his features, "Well volunteered!" before Dean could protest, Gabriel snapped his fingers and produced a brown file in his hand, "Here, I even made it easy enough for you to do all by yourself. And I made sure to use words no longer than three syllables, I know how you don't like them," he held out the pages for Dean to take.

Dean narrowed his eyes and snatched the file out of Gabriel's hand, knowing full well he didn't have a choice. Besides, anything that would help them find the one who hurt Sam was a bonus. Clamping the flashlight between his teeth, Dean flipped open the file and began to flick through it.

"So are you going to be tagging along?"

There was silence. With a frown, Dean looked up to find himself alone once again. An annoyed grunt pushed past the flashlight as he snapped the file shut and stalked from the room, eager to get to the Impala and back to Bobby's. Cas would catch up. He was probably watching anyway, Gabriel having told him to skedaddle while he and Dean talked.

* * *

><p><strong>Weeee Chapter 3! *ahem* once again I sincerely hope that you thoroughly enjoyed this fic. I certainly enjoy writing it! Please, please, please let me know what you think in a little review? If only a little one?<strong>

**Reviews are the trenchcoat to my Cas**


	4. Chapter 4

The dream was strange. It was too definitely unreal. Unlike most dreams that created a whole new universe and made you believe it was real, this one Sam was sure was just a part of his mind. A deep, murky corner of his mind that he rarely ventured. Though apparently, his subconscious wanted him there tonight.

What exactly he was looking at he couldn't be sure. The vision was distant and fuzzy like he was watching it through the wrong end of a cloudy telescope. One thing he could say for definite was that a red haze filled most of what he was seeing. Blood, he realised, there was a lot of blood.

A pang of recognition flared somewhere in Sam's mind but it was more of a sense of faint déjà vu than proper remembrance. Still, he felt himself drawn closer by a sense of apprehensive curiosity. The kind that was almost certainly found on many a cat's death certificate. But to his frustration he found himself unable to get any closer to the image, every time he moved towards it, it ghosted away from him, dragged reluctantly away by some invisible power. So, after a few more futile efforts, Sam stopped trying to reach it. Instead he focused. Concentration was hard in a dream but still he tried. He chose a point in the dull image that was not coloured the same red as the majority of the haze and fought to define it further.

An unknown amount of time passed and slowly the haze began to thin. He could make out the outline of a single, empty room. The white tiled walls were broken and cracked and still glistening with fresh red. Urged by his success, Sam continued and soon he could make out two forms, one significantly taller than the other. Seizing the progress, he shifted his mind's eye to the smaller of the two and fought harder against the subconscious haze.

It took what seemed like a while, but eventually his vision cleared further, revealing more about the chosen figure. He was male, young and well built. His hair was long, brown and hung dishevelled and dirty over his face. Scraps of torn and ruined clothing hung uselessly from his bloodied form. He was on his knees, which explained the height difference, slumped against the wall, using it to keep his body from collapsing to the dirty floor. It was hard to tell, but the man was breathing, just. Air entered and left his lungs in shallow disjointed breaths that seemed to pain him with every passing. Though it seemed like his capacity for pain had been reached long ago, leaving him the energy to do nothing but twitch at anything that added to it.

The niggling feeling of recognition become a tolling alarm bell as his subconscious suddenly began to scramble backwards, away from the forgotten memory. But it he had already gotten to close. He was sucked through the looking-glass as the memory engulfed him, throwing the full might of all the pain it brought with it against him. The Sam in the memory was broken and dying, he had no strength to register the agony he was going through. But the Sam experiencing it now was fully aware and at the mercy of every sensation the memory gave him. It was unbearable.

In his sleep, Sam screamed as days' worth of torture descended upon in one go. It exploded from his head and shot down his body like a tidal wave that seemed to tear great phantom wounds as he writhed on the sofa. Vaguely, he knew Bobby was close by offering calming words and promises of safety but his subconscious couldn't hear them. They weren't real to it. To his mind, Sam was slumped torn and dying in a dark dusty room. All he knew was excruciation. The pain of kneeling on shattered legs. The rasp of air as it fought through pools of blood to escape his lungs, leaving a gleaming spray on his lips. The rhythmic stabbing that came with every inhale as his snapped rib punctured his organs. The wet feeling of clutching his only working arm across the gash in his stomach that threatened to spill his insides onto the floor.

Rambled pleas for escape in any form joined his screams.

_Hey Jude, don't make it bad_

The pain faltered a moment as whispered words of a familiar lullaby echoed through his head. Where it was coming from, Sam didn't know and neither did he care. The respite it brought was enough for him not to care if they were just his life flashing before his eyes before he died. But he didn't get a chance to savour it. A brief pause for breath on the part of the singer left a gap for the torture to descend once more and Sam's screams started anew.

_Take a sad song and make it better._

_Remember to let her into your heart._

The song came back stronger, recognising Sam's pleas. It enveloped him, pulling him from the cold empty room and driving back the waves of torture. This time, Sam reached out and clung to the voice, his shield against the waves of phantom pain that he could still feel just beyond his fragile bubble. There was another brief pause and the memory whispered through, brushing against Sam's subconscious. But the shield stayed strong and the pain was nothing but a ghost of what it was before.

_Then you can start to make things better._

The voice was male, Sam realised. And it was glorious. It carried the soft notes with a strength and power that seemed to make the song glow in his mind. It was nothing like he had ever felt before. As the song continued, Sam felt as though he was being bathed in calm, warming light. His own small cocoon of safety that soothed his pained and kept him protected from the fractured psyche beyond. The voice swept over him and carried him through the threatening shadows that gathered at its edges, brushing through them like they were just shadows as it brought him away from the dark recesses of his mind. Occasionally, something about the particular emphasis on a certain word or the tone inflected on the odd word would connect with a part of Sam's mind. It felt almost familiar.

The song continued and his curiosity quickly waned. These interested places were outside of the soothing voice and soft cocoon. They didn't matter. Eventually, nothing else mattered as the song drifted him away from the dark nightmares that had stirred his sleep and away into a slumber too deep for anything to hurt him.

Bobby watched, dumbstruck as Sam's screams quieted to soft whimpers and his violent thrashes calmed until he lay perfectly still and silent on the sofa. The only evidence that anything had happened was the film of sweat on the man's forehead and the bloodied marks on the palms of his hands where Sam had accidently dug his own nails into his skin. Bobby had insisted on the boy sleeping downstairs so that he would be in easy reach in case anything like this was to happen. The only problem was, when it did, nothing that Bobby could do had helped. What was more antagonizing was that he had no idea what it was that had eventually calmed Sam down.

"You never sung a lullaby to a crying baby?"

Bobby wheeled round ready to defend Sam despite his limitations. At the sight of Gabriel leaning in the archway to the kitchen he relaxed a little. The Archangel looked up from studying Sam to meet Bobby's wary gaze with a satisfied half-smile, pleased that he'd made the old hunter jump.

"I'm only a Singer by name," Bobby retorted gruffly and despite himself, Gabriel's half smile became a full one.

"It's a good thing one of us was here to put Sammy to bed then."

Bobby glanced at Sam then back to Gabriel with a sceptical raised eyebrow, "You can sing?"

Gabriel held up his hands, "Guilty. Don't spread it around though, everyone will be wanting a jaunty tune," he grinned and produced a chocolate bar from nowhere. The whole clicking thing had been adopted as part of his Trickster persona and now that there was no need for it anymore Gabriel was slowly dropping the old habit. Most people had thought it was out of laziness, but Gabriel had always liked to see it as a symbol of change, a new start to an old life and the end of one he'd much prefer to forget. The candy thing though, that had always more of an addiction than a habit. Humans made some damn good food.

A pause strung out between them as the Archangel was distracted by the opening of his candy.

"You gonna tell me what the hell just happened?" Bobby asked, "Or are we gonna play 20 questions?"

Once again, Gabriel smirked. Say what you will about Bobby Singer but he had earned the respect of an Archangel through his rough humour and wit that had only sharpened with age. Gabriel chewed purposefully slowly on his mouthful of chocolate so as to give himself time to properly explain. A moment passed and he swallowed, "He found one of the memories. And it was doozy at that."

"I thought you'd wiped his hard drive?"

There was an accusatory tone on Bobby's words that Gabriel chose not to respond to. After all, it wasn't like Gabriel wasn't to blame. A twinge of guilt fluttered in his mind but he suppressed it and catalogued it among the hundreds of others that were beginning to swamp his head. He took another bite of chocolate, chewed and swallowed before explaining further, "You can't just take memories and destroy 'em. Memories are what define a guy. If I completely deleted them, it wouldn't be the same Sam anymore. Or worse, I'd mess up and the kid would end up brain dead. No, you gotta just lock them away so that he can't find them anymore. But it seems our Sammy himself a gap in the fence."

As he finished the explanation, Gabriel found his gaze drawn back to the figure laid out on the sofa, breathing softly in his dreamless sleep. A deep buried ache yet again tried to drive its way to the surface but Gabriel mustered his will and beat it back, telling himself that it was for the best, no matter how easily he could squeeze himself into that space in crook of Sam's arm. No matter how easily it would be to undo everything. No matter how much he wanted Sam to awake to a small Archangel preparing pancakes in the kitchen that would end up ignored as the hunter distracted said Archangel in one way or another.

A soft reminiscent smile touched the corners of his lips and he almost gave in. Almost. A flash of the moment he'd found Sam brought him back to reality. And with it came the knowledge that it could all happen all over again if Gabriel allowed himself another selfish indulgence.

Bobby's voice broke his reverie with a sharp call of his name and Gabriel suddenly realised that he been saying it for a while.

The Archangel turned his gaze on Bobby, eyebrows raised expectantly as he uttered a soft, questioning hum.

The old hunter eyed him for a moment and Gabriel could see that he bit back his initial question and instead chose another, "So what? Sam's found the chink in your wall and now it's all going to just spew out?"

With a casual waft of his hand, Gabriel dismissed the notion, finishing his chocolate and screwing the wrapper into his fist before replying, "The chinks are supposed to be there, else he would have woken up a different Sam. Don't worry your little titanium wheels he can't see them while he's awake. His subconscious just wanted to take a look," he allowed himself one last sweeping gaze of Sam, drinking in as much of it as possible. He wanted to paste over the most recent memory of Sam he had with something good. A memory of him safe and sound with those who loved him more than anything else. It was far better than the one that continued to force itself into his mind's eye. It was similar to the one Sam had found himself in fact. At least with this new memory, Gabriel could cling to the fact that he had saved his Sammy just one more time than he'd endangered him.

Satisfied he had imprinted it on his brain, he raised his hand to leave. It was the only thing he continuously clicked for anymore. His own form of a goodbye wave as it were, "Well I'll see ya round Mustang."

Seeing it, Bobby lifted his arm to halt him, "Hang on, what if it happens again? I don't exactly enjoy seeing Sam scream bloody murder while I'm sat here, useless as a dead horse."

Gabriel shrugged, "As stubborn as he is about flinging himself at danger wherever he goes, Sam's subconscious isn't as stupid. It won't be going that way for a while."

Bobby seemed unconvinced, "Maybe you could record a CD for me to play while he's sleeping," he said, though it took a keen ear to notice the hint of sarcasm in his voice.

A chuckle escaped Gabriel's lips, "No can do, Hot Wheels, they don't make CD's angel proof," he shrugged apologetically, "Don't lose sleep over it, our little Bigfoot will be just fine."

And with a quick snap, Bobby was alone with Sam.

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><p><strong>So this wasn't supposed to be a chapter all on its own, it was supposed to be like half of one but it got a little carried away with itself...still hope you like it! Please, please, please let me know what you think, it just makes me so happy to get the little review emails xD<strong>

**Reviews are the pie to my dean **

**xxx**


	5. Chapter 5

"Was he well?" Castiel asked from the front passenger seat of the Impala once Dean had finished retelling his brief meeting with Gabriel.

"That's your first question?" Dean replied incredulously, barely keeping his eyes focused on the road.

"He is my brother Dean," came the calm reply as Castiel's eyes remained forward, he was too used to Dean's sometimes irrational responses to certain situations. Arguing with him would just make things worse, "He must be dealing with just as much as you feel you are."

"What could he possibly be dealing with that is worse than this?"

Cas frowned disbelievingly, "He made the decision to leave the closest thing he could have to a soul mate for fear their relationship would lead to Sam's death. Then if that were not enough, he now has to watch as the one he loves continues on with his life, glad in the knowledge that the only memory of Gabriel he has is the one in which the Trickster is finally killed, once and for all."

Dean was silent for a moment, gaze fixed ahead as he tried to find a way to argue around Cas's point, "Yeah well, it's his own fault," he grumbled defeated.

"While that may be true, what he has done is for Sam's sake and it would make things easier if you tried not to resent him so," Cas replied with a sigh, his tone remaining neutral.

"Let's not go there Cas, I don't want to argue with you about this," Dean answered, with a sharp cut of his hand, "Let's just get back to Bobby's so we can start this search for that Trickster," he gave an amused snort, "And hope it doesn't turn out to be another one of your long lost siblings," Dean glanced at Cas with a smirk.

The angel blinked and tilted his head and Dean rolled his eyes, wondering why he bothered making jokes anymore.

It was very early when Dean pulled the Impala into Bobby's driveway, still dark and dawn was probably a couple of hours off. The house was completely black save for the glow that emanated from the kitchen. Bobby was still up then, Dean thought to himself as he stepped out of the car. He had thought of ringing ahead, but he wasn't about to go worrying everyone by calling in the dead of night, especially when Bobby's was the only place anyone got any proper sleep. A bout of which, Dean was looking forward to himself.

The old mechanic was behind his desk when Dean and Cas entered, already pointing a shotgun at the door, alerted by the sound of the front door opening. Immediately, Dean threw up his hands in surrender fashion with a smirk.

"Woah, Bobby, cool the burners," Dean greeted, lowering his hands only when Bobby laid the gun onto the desk.

"Jesus boy, you scared the hell out of me," Bobby replied gruffly.

"Good to see you too Bobby," Dean replied, dropping onto the sofa, "So, how's the patient?"

Bobby glanced up at the ceiling, "Fine, when he's awake," he answered, then sighed at Dean's questioning frown, "Last night he started screaming bloody murder in his sleep. Began about midnight, last about twenty minutes. Not sure exactly what started it."

Dean sat up quickly, "What? Is he ok?"

"Oh yeah, he's fine now," Bobby nodded, "Our friendly neighbourhood Archangel dropped by and sang a freaking lullaby by the sounds of it. Sam doesn't remember a thing about it, he's just spent the day moping in front of his computer."

Dean groaned as he leant forward in his seat and ran his hands roughly through his hair, "I don't know whether to hug or strangle your brother," he glanced at Castiel who was still hovering by the door.

The angel remained silent.

"So, did you find anything?" Bobby asked, hopefully.

Having recovered from his short silent rage at Gabriel, he nodded, "Had our own run in with Mr. Sandman ourselves as it happens. Turns out we're dealing with a Trickster."

Bobby seemed mildly surprised, which was a lot for the old hunter, "But that makes no sense. Nothing about the attack fits a Trickster. Especially Sam. If either of you needs knocking down a peg, it's you Dean."

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean replied sarcastically before shaking his head, "Apparently, the case is that our buddy isn't exactly popular among the supernatural community and now they're using Sam as a tool for vengeance. I don't know the details but that's the gist of it from what Gabriel said."

Bobby frowned, "Well that's just brilliant."

"Yeah that's what I thought," Dean muttered as he pushed himself to his feet and stifled a yawn, "I'm gonna head up to get a few hours rest. You want me to carry you up the stairs?"

Bobby rewarded Dean's humour with a sarcastic laugh and a scowl.

Dean laughed, "G'night Bobby," with that he left the room heading upstairs for his bed.

Bobby looked to Cas with a raised eyebrow, "Ain't you following?" he nodded his head in the direction Dean had gone.

"I will, but not yet. I may see if I can offer my aid to Gabriel. Goodnight, Bobby," there was a soft ruffle of wings and the angel was gone.

Castiel had spent an hour searching for his brother who was moving almost too quickly to be found at all. A further hour had the angel striving to keep up as the Archangel flew from place to place, scouring every inch of the land they covered in their flight at speeds too great for humans to perceive. Gabriel must have known that Castiel was following him, the angel made no efforts to be stealthy, but the Archangel didn't slow or even acknowledge his presence. It seemed he was too hell bent on his search. Even having to search manually, the Archangel could cover every inch of a state in an hour. Castiel followed silently, reserving his strength for maintaining enough speed to stay with the Archangel. Dawn was coming when Gabriel finally came to a stop, landing in a lit dockside warehouse filled with rows upon rows of metal shelving stocked with sealed boxes of unknown contents, probably ready for shipping elsewhere the next day. Castiel landed a little way from where Gabriel was idly inspecting one of the shelves with his back to the angel. Castiel took the opportunity to steady himself. Using legs after so long on the wing was never easy.

"What are you doing Castiel?" Gabriel asked, breaking the silence as he turned, fixing his eyes on Cas, his tone sharper than expected.

Immediately, Castiel knew Gabriel's mood was balanced on a knife edge; he would have to choose his words carefully, "I came to see how you are faring, brother."

"How I am?" Gabriel chuckled, almost manically, "Well, I just saw Sam tortured to within an inch of his life, listened to his desperate prayers unable to do a damned thing, pulled him back from the brink of his own mind all the while if he ever saw me, his first instinct would be stick me with an old bit of fencing. And as if my day wasn't already just awesome, the bitch who caused all his is laughing at me from the shadows while I flail about as powerful as a sparrow with its wings cut off. So all in all, I'm just peachy!" Gabriel's voice had become louder and faster as he spoke, as though once the flood gates were open there was no stopping it. The room had dimmed significantly and by the time Gabriel finally finished the shelves closest to him were squealing under the strain of some invisible force. With a note of fear, it occurred to Cas that Gabriel's idea of a wingless sparrow was significantly more dangerous than reality.

Castiel swallowed as he watched his brother, the emotions he had worked so hard to hide from all the others now clear on his face. The wariness that Castiel was feeling must have shown as Gabriel took a deep breath and closed his eyes in an attempt to replace he expression of fury on his face with his usual nonchalant mask. The shelves around him stopped squealing but the light was not returned to the room.

It was only when Castiel was sure that Gabriel had calmed somewhat that he pulled up the courage to speak once again, "Is there anything that I can do?"

Gabriel gave a bark of sarcastic laughter, so sudden it made Castiel flinch, "Is there anything you can do?" he pursed his lips overdramatically, "Is there anything the angel of Thursday can do where one an almost omnipotent Archangel is stuck? Let me think."

Castiel licked his lips nervously and lowered his gaze with a subtle nod, accepting the sharp reminder of his powerlessness with meek humility, as he should when speaking with his superior, "Of course, my apologies. I just thought that perhaps you needed someone to support you, as Sam has Dean. Everyone needs someone to stand beside them, Gabriel. But I shall not force myself on you, you know where I am if you need me," with that, Castiel turned to leave without raising his eyes.

Gabriel exhaled forcefully, "Cas, wait," he sighed again as Castiel turned back to his brother expectantly. The Archangel was visibly calmer, but without the wall of fury on his features, Cas could see a far more worn and haggard Gabriel, he couldn't even manage an apologetic smile, "I didn't mean to ruffle your feathers. Not exactly good at civil conversation right now."

Castiel nodded, "I understand, there is no need for excuses."

Gabriel took another deep breath and looked to the floor as he stuck his hands in his jacket pockets, "Actually, Cas, there is something you could do for me," he said, withdrawing one of his hands, something clasped in his fingers.

With a curious tilt of the head, Castiel took a couple of steps closer to the Archangel, "Anything."

Gabriel uncurled his fingers to reveal two golden feathers laid in the palm of his hand. One was about the length of his hand, straight and clear cut while the other was only about half the length of his thumb, curled up on itself a little, its edges a much softer, "Get these to Sam for me?" he asked, holding them out to his brother.

Eyes wide with awe, Castiel gingerly picked them up, one in each hand, "Are these…"

Gabriel nodded, watching the feathers with a look akin to pride, "Yep, I'd planned to give them to him a bit ago but I just never got around to it. The little one will help him sleep, the longer one is to stop his worrying. The kid just needs to relax, especially now."

Castiel was still staring dumbly at the feathers in his hands, "You pulled your own wing feathers for him?" he asked surprised. It was enough just to allow another to see an angel's wings, especially a human, let alone sacrifice feathers. It hurt like hell if anyone even brushed another's feathers the wrong way, but to pluck them was something else entirely.

Gabriel's lips quirked into a sad half-smile, "Yeah, well, I've made bigger sacrifices since."

Castiel's eyes flicked up to meet Gabriel's for a moment and a pang of sympathy rang through him, "How should I get them to him without him knowing who they are from?"

The Archangel shrugged, pushing his hand back into his pocket, "They don't have to be touching him. Clothes, bed, anything that he's going to be in contact with for long periods of time."

Castiel nodded, "I'll do my best, Gabriel."

Gabriel smirked, reaching out and ruffling Cas's hair, "Can always rely on you, eh bro?"

Castiel gave a small smile but it fell away quickly, "There is no chance I can convince you to undo what you have done?"

Gabriel sighed and tilted his head, "Look after him for me yeah?" with a snap of his fingers the Archangel was gone.

Castiel hesitated a moment in case Gabriel returned but when it became clear that he was not, he carefully closed his fingers around the two feathers and clasped them tightly, still in slight awe that he was holding a pair of Archangel feathers. He was glad that he had made the decision to go after his brother. Even that short burst of pent up rage had probably helped to clear Gabriel's head so that he could focus on what he needed to focus on. Plus, he had helped him feel a little less distant from Sam. With a small sense of pride, Castiel left the warehouse.

**Sorry for the delay guys, Christmas and revision for exams and new year and few prompts I was asked to do, kinda got in the way. But it's here! Rejoice! Or enjoy to some extent, whichever you prefer. Still as always I'd love to know what you think! I love you guys so much. Reviews are the research to my Sam. ^^**

**xxxxx**


	6. Chapter 6

Morning came far too quickly in Sam's opinion. Sun streamed in through the thin curtains, falling right across his eyes forcing him to screw them shut and roll away with a disgruntled groan. A sigh breezed across his lips as the arm fell from his face into the other half of his bed and he ran his hand along the mattress. A soft mew of disappointment left his throat before Sam could even register anything was amiss. Frowning, Sam let his eyes open slightly, wondering what exactly it was he was supposed to be missing. The bed was empty and there was no sign that anyone other than himself had slept there. He wasn't one for one night stands and even if he was, he was still at Bobby's. Not even Dean brought anyone here. No self-respecting man or woman would allow themselves to be brought here. The soft tones of disappointment at finding the space empty were still niggling, but having extinguished all possible explanations and finding none that actually explained it Sam closed his eyes again and rolling onto his stomach, tucking his arms under his pillow.

He lay like that for an unknown amount of time, hovering just on the edge of sleep, enjoying the comfort of an actual bed rather than the old sofa that Bobby had made him sleep on the night before. Something must have happened because when he'd woken up Bobby had been on edge, well more on edge than normal, sat behind his desk with bags under his eyes that made it clear he'd been there all night. Still, Sam had managed to convince him to let him use his bedroom. Whatever happened the night before must have been a one off, seeing as Bobby hadn't clawed his way up the stairs and ended up splayed on the floor with a gun of some description clasped in his hands.

With another contented sigh, Sam hugged the pillow tighter to him, ignoring the small part of his brain that told him he should get up and head downstairs. The majority of his being was reluctant to face the world at all. He'd spent the previous day writing out all the events he remembered, working backwards from when he woke up in hospital. The plan was that getting it all down on paper would give him a chance to see everything laid bare and so it would be easier to see a link. It was disheartening when he thought about wading through his fractured head trying to salvage old ruins. The more he went back through his memories, the more he felt like something, or rather someone was missing. Who that person was or why they were gone though was still an unknown. But it was the only thing that seemed to fit. The only things he had worked out were that whoever or whatever it was, it often turned up on hunts and was on friendly terms with Sam. Exactly when they had burst – which seemed an odd choice of word, Sam realised - into their lives wasn't something he could be sure about. There came a point when Sam couldn't tell whether the missing memories were due to the amnesia or simply time.

"Hey Sam!"

Sam frowned and cracked one eye open as he heard Dean's voice call from downstairs.

"If you want any lunch you better get your lazy ass down here!"

The frown became a scowl as Sam pushed himself upright and relinquished his bed reluctantly, egged on by the smell of bacon that wafted in as he opened the door.

Downstairs, Dean was busy standing over the oven, pushing the sizzling breakfast around the pan. He'd been up for a while now, giving him and Cas enough time to go through everything they had learnt with Bobby who was now reading through the file at his desk. Cas was sat at the kitchen table frowning at Sam's laptop with that look of total amazement he seemed to have every time he used the thing. For a being who knew the goings on of almost the whole world, the internet shouldn't be all that interesting but then it probably wasn't to most angels. By electing to cook lunch, Dean had saved himself any sort of research based task. He smirked at his own, small, personal victory and tipped the finished bacon out onto a waiting plate as footsteps announced Sam's imminent arrival.

"Afternoon, Sleeping Beauty!" Dean beamed as his brother appeared in the doorway, clearly still half asleep, "Grubs up."

Sam looked suspiciously between the plate of bacon and Dean's grin, "You're cheery."

"What? A guy can't cook a bit of lunch for his brother without alarm bells going off?" Dean asked, dumping the empty pan into the sink and affecting a dramatically hurt pout.

"Not when it's you," Sam replied, crossing the room and seating himself in an empty chair next to Cas, rubbing a hand over his face as he went in an attempt to remove the last remnants of drowsiness.

"Did you sleep well?" Cas asked, lifting his gaze from the computer screen and eyeing Sam critically.

Sam nodded, "I did yeah, thanks," he answered then leant forward as Dean deposited the bacon, a couple of empty plates and cutlery onto the table in front of him. Cas nodded to himself, no one noticing the small smile that hitched his lips. "Hey, did you guys find anything?" Sam asked as he picked up a plate and began to transfer food onto it.

"We did actually," Dean replied as he grabbed some for himself then retreated to lean against kitchen counter, "Turns out we're looking at a Trickster."

Sam spluttered and coughed as he nearly choked on his food, "The Trickster? I thought we finally ganked him back the mystery spot?"

Dean blinked at the sudden outburst and shared an uncertain look with Cas before giving a breathy chuckle, "Chill out, dude, we did," Dean lied, knowing better than to go against the memory that Gabriel had fabricated. Despite his opinion of the Archangel though, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him at Sam's reaction to just the mention of his name, "This is a different Trickster. Didn't realise you still held beef with that guy anyway."

Sam sat back in his chair, frowning, apparently just as surprised at his reaction as the rest of them, "I don't, sorry, don't know where that came from," he took a deep breath and blew forcefully from his nose, "Right, so, different Trickster. What else? Anywhere we might find it?"

Dean lowered his gaze to his plate with sudden and intense focus.

Sam raised his eyebrows expectantly and looked to Bobby for extra details, "What else did you find guys?"

"Jack squat, that's what," Bobby grumbled, "We don't where it is or even where it's been. Trail's dead."

"That's not quite true," Cas interjected, before looking to Sam and leaning forward as though divulging a great secret, "The location of this Trickster has been narrowed down to one of five states, none of which are far from here."

"Exactly!" Dean joined in, piggybacking on Cas's confidence, "Now we just gotta wait until any kind of traditional Trickster justice turns up in the papers."

Sam nodded, poking his lunch absently with his fork, "We wait then?"

Dean deflated, "Yeah, looks like it. Not much else we can do Sammy, sorry," he offered weakly, before pausing, watching as Sam picked up a piece of bacon and chewed it slowly, "So how are you feeling anyway?"

Sam paused in his chewing, really thinking over the question as he always did before answering, "Yeah, I'm fine except for the whole memory thing," he said finally spinning a small circle next to his head with his fork, before hesitating and lowering it and looking up to Dean with an almost nervous expression, "Can I asked you something?"

Dean raised his eyebrows questioningly, his mouth too full of bacon to return a vocal answer.

"Is there anyone who, like, helps us out?"

"What do you mean?" Dean replied frowning and ignoring the fact that Bobby had just lifted his head from the file and was now listening intently to the conversation.

"Well I've been trying to work my way through what's left of my memories and-"

"I thought we decided it would be better if you left your memory alone?" Dean interrupted firmly, laying his now empty plate on the side and folding his arms across his chest.

"Um, no, you decided that, Dean," Sam shot back immediately, "But you're not the one sat around with a sieve for a brain. What else was I supposed to do?"

Dean exhaled forcefully out of his nose, "Damn it Sam…"

Sam scowled for a moment then shook his head to clear his expression too keen on getting his revelation out onto the table to be bothered to argue with his brother, "Right, whatever. The thing is I think I've worked out that the link in all this is a person or a maybe not a person but you know someone," he explained, his words becoming quicker as he got into the flow of what he was saying, "Cause he memories I'm missing aren't from a specific time period, well except for last week's, they're from random points from a long way back. So apart from them just being arbitrary memories that have gone, it could only be that they're memories of a person or a thing that someone doesn't want me to know about. It makes more sense than anything else I could think up."

Dean blinked. Had Sam really been able to figure it all out? Already? It had only been three days since Gabriel had wiped his mind in the first place. He glanced at Bobby who was sharing the look of shock that Dean assumed was plastered all over his own face.

"So there is?" Sam asked, frowning at his brother's silence.

Dean shook his head quickly, more to clear it than actually disagree, "Er, no, we don't tend to pick up passengers on our hunting trips Sam, especially not recently."

Sam's frown was not appeased, "Then why the long pause?"

Dean covered the next pause where he scrambled for an answer with a scoff, "Because I was surprised that you even thought that we would bring someone along. Who do you think it would be? Crowley? Oh yeah, because he's a barrel of laughs."

Sam sighed and looked away, shoulders sagging as the one lead he had come up with was blown out of the water. He should have known really. If there was an extra team player that had joined them then where were they? "Yeah, I guess you're right," he muttered under his breath, "It was just an idea."

Dean licked his lips at the sight of his brother's shoulders falling, "But hey, don't give up just yet yeah? Once we've dealt with this Trickster we can start to sort your head."

"I thought you said that was a bad idea," Sam muttered, clearly disheartened.

Dean shrugged, "It can't do too much harm once this is all over."

Sam gave small smile, "Thanks Dean. I'm going to hit the shower, call me if you find anything. You're not leaving me behind when you catch up with it."

Dean nodded as his brother pushed himself out of his chair and strode from the room. Silence hung in the kitchen as the three of them listened to the footsteps echo up the stairs and across the landing above them. It wasn't until the bathroom door had opened and closed that anyone made even breathed, let alone spoke.

"Should we tell Gabriel?" Cas asked after a moment, looking up from the computer to Dean who was still watching the doorway after Sam.

He exhaled sharply, "What difference would it make?" he replied, "Besides, he probably already knows."

Cas nodded and resumed his search of the internet, expression neutral. Dean hated the way he was never able to tell what the angel was thinking.

"What are you planning to do?" Bobby interjected, fixing Dean with an intense gaze, "If we catch up with this Trickster that is."

Dean frowned as though it was obvious, "Kill it."

"I mean afterwards," he continued, rolling his eyes, "Do you plan to continue the charade until Sam cracks or are you gonna tell him?"

Dean scowled at the accusatory tone on Bobby's words and he couldn't help but think that the old hunter blamed this whole fiasco on him. Satisfied his scowl had made some sort of impression, Dean looked away. In truth he had no idea what he was going to do after this Trickster deal was over with. Once it was dead, Gabriel would be gone and they'd probably not hear from him again, he'd made that much clear. That left team Free Will an Archangel down, which was like having your own personal tank suddenly just up and walk out on you. Hunting wouldn't be quite so easy anymore. But that wasn't what Dean was worried about. They'd been hunters long before any kind of celestial help and they sure as hell weren't going to die once Captain Douchebag left them. No, what Dean was worried about was Sam. Sure Gabriel had pulled all the memories from him but Sam was smart enough to eventually figure out that they were all keeping something secret, which wouldn't do their relationship any good at all. But also, there was no guarantee that the memories weren't all going to come flooding back at once. It was one thing to have your lover die on you. Sam had been through that, he'd fought through the grief and come out the other end stronger. But having an Archangel walk out on you and know that they could hear you every night when you talked to them, yet they continued to ignore you. That wasn't something Sam would be getting over easily.

"Dean, I believe I have found something," Cas said, thankfully interrupting the thought train screaming through Dean's head.

He crossed the room quickly, eager to distract himself with work. Hunting was good for that, "What is it?" he asked, leaning over Cas's shoulder to read the computer screen to read the newspaper article that he had pulled up.

"The murder is fitting with the usual actions of a Trickster," Cas explained before minimising it and showing four other pages of a similar style, "And that is not the only one in the town."

Dean's eyes ticked over the screen only reading the odd sentence, but more than enough to confirm Cas's theory, "That's not too far from here either," Dean grinned, squeezing Cas's shoulder gratefully before heading for the door, "Call your brother, I'll get Forget-Me-Not."

"You're taking Sam?" Bobby asked, surprised.

Dean stopped in his tracks, eyebrows raised questioningly, "Well he'd throw a bitch fit otherwise. Besides, revenge is something that Dr. Dean believes is healthy for the soul," he flashed a cocksure grin and bounded up the stairs, spirits lifted by the news.

**Wheeeee thanks for sticking with me! I'm so happy. Hope you're still enjoying it. Please please please let me know what you think? This chapter isn't exactly eventful but don't worry action to come! Also, just so you know there will probably be a longer delay on the next chapter. I have exams for the next few weeks and also, I'm starting a J2Bigbang for livejournal so yeah…this will probably be on a back burner for a while.**

**Hope you stick around though**

**Reviews are the baseball caps to my Bobby!**

**xxxxx**


	7. Chapter 7

To plan wasn't exactly how Sam would have described their hunt of the Trickster. Mainly because of the fact if Dean had any plan at all he had kept it well and truly to himself.

After Dean had banged on the door to the bathroom, thereby ruining Sam's relaxing shower, the two of them had gathered up all the things they thought they would need and left quickly. Cas had disappeared somewhere or other before Sam had even dried off. Heavenly business Dean had explained as they sped down the interstate. The rest of the journey was spent mostly in silence, Dean concentrating on the road, Sam wrapped up in the thought of vengeance and the possibility of answers. Occasionally, he would ask his brother for an update of the plan but it remained stuck at 'stake the bitch.' As far as plans went it wasn't one of Dean's best. Though there had been something about his expression of veiled worry that had Sam on edge. He tried asking about it, but as expected Dean dismissed his concerns. But as they got closer to their destination Dean's veil began to slip and every so often he would lean forward slightly and scan the sky as though searching for something. Knowing he wouldn't get an answer, Sam decided against probing.

It turned out that whatever he was worried about was fairly well founded.

Almost as soon as they had parked up the Impala and stepped out of it, the sound of fingers snapping sounded from somewhere close and everything fell into blackness.

Sam's thoughts felt dull and thick when he came to. Screwing his eyelids togther, he shook his head slightly in an attempt to clear it before cautiously taking a look around. He had no idea how long he'd been out, what had happened in the first place or where he was now. He and Dean were sat on a chair in the centre of an open and empty warehouse, lit by sunlight streaming through the empty window panes and rusted holes in the roof. Dean was still unconscious, wrists tied to the arms of the wooden chair and ankles bound to its legs. It only took a second of struggling to work out Sam was in the same situation. And he wasn't getting free easily. Not that that stopped him from trying.

"Now, now, did you really think it would be that simple?" a woman's voice floated through the building, as a silhouette appeared in an open doorway at the far end of the warehouse, "We're called Tricksters for a reason you know."

Sam watched silently as the figure stepped out of the doorway, walking towards them, swinging her hips with an easy grace. Bright red curls flowed down her back, glinting when the light caught it the right way. Only when she stopped a few feet from the brothers did Sam finally feel a spark of recognition as he looked her in the eye.

"Sam," the woman greeted as though they were old friends, flashing a brilliant smile and as she laid a hand lazily on her hip and ran her eyes over him with a predatory gleam, "Good to see you again. I'd wondered where you'd gotten to."

Sam narrowed his eyes but refused to reply.

The woman pouted when Sam failed to say anything, "Don't you recognise me?" she took the few steps forwards. Sam began pulling at the ropes that bound his wrists and ankles as she came closer in a vain attempt to keep some distance between them. But it was futile and halted when the woman tutted and lowered herself into Sam's lap, resting her arms around his neck, "But we had such a good time together," she grinned, running her tongue along her teeth.

Sam glowered at her, leaning back in his chair as far as he could to escape the sweet scent that was rolling off her. It wasn't unpleasant. It was an odd mix of everything sweet that Sam knew of, probably a result of a Trickster's speciality diet. But, it wasn't the smell itself that got to him, it was the way that it reached into his mind a struck a great sense of déjà vu which brought with it that increasingly familiar sense of loneliness. That was what he wanted to get away from. Setting his features, he pushed the thoughts to one side, know what that now wasn't the time to be focusing on it, "So you're the Trickster we've been looking for," he stated through gritted teeth, trying to breathe through his mouth, "The one who tried to kill me."

The Trickster seemed genuinely offended by the comment, "Try to kill you? No, no, no, if I wanted to kill you, sweetheart, I would have ripped your heart the minute I got hold of you," coupled with the stroke of a hand across Sam's cheek, her words sent a chill down Sam's spine.

"Then why don't you?" he spat.

The woman tilted her head, "Isn't that obvious?"

"Humour me."

She chuckled and ran a hand through her bright locks, her eyes never leaving Sam's, "Where's the fun in that?" she replied, a slight smirk touching her lips.

Sam stopped and thought for a moment, "Is this about the Trickster from the mystery spot? I didn't realise you guys gave a crap about each other," he growled.

With a bark of shrill laughter, the woman stood from Sam's lap, "You think I care about that guy?" she laughed to herself again, pacing a few steps away from him only to suddenly quieten and turn sharply on her heels, eyes narrowed, "Wait, what did you call him?"

A soft moan beside him signalled Dean's return to consciousness.

"Sam?" he groaned, lifting his head a little only to hesitate and start struggling when he found himself bound to a chair, "Sam?"

"I'm here Dean," Sam replied quickly, trying to calm his brother while keeping one eye on the Trickster.

"Sam what the hell is goin-" the rest of his words were cut off as a gag materialised around his head.

"Be quiet!" the Trickster yelled, before taking a couple of steps closer to Sam, "I asked you a question, what did you just call him?"

Sam shot a worried glance at Dean who was glaring fiercely at the Trickster and thrashing violently against his ropes, muffled expletives slipping out from behind the gag.

"Answer me!" the Trickster was suddenly on him, cross the distance impossibly fast to clamp a hand around his throat.

Sam choked a little at the force but relaxed a little when he found himself still able to breathe, "The Trickster," he coughed out, "I called him the Trickster."

A slim blade made from gleaming red metal was pulled from thin air and pressed flat against his neck so hard he could feel his heartbeat against it, "What is his name?" she asked, her narrowed eyes flitting between Sam's searching for any hint of dishonesty.

Wincing as the cold metal twisted a little on his skin, Sam held her look, "I didn't stop to ask," he hissed, partially a show of bravado, partially a way of conserving his breath.

The Trickster's jaw clenched and the knife was withdrawn but the woman didn't move away. After a moment, she tilted her head and without warning she plunged the knife into Sam's thigh. Sam screamed and threw his head back as pain erupted from his leg, blood blossoming into the denim of his jeans as the chair rocked violently as he tried and failed to pull away. After a moment, instinct relinquished control and Sam began to clench and unclench his fists, breathing in sharp, forceful breaths interspersed with pained grunts and grimaces. The muscle in his leg spasmed as it tried to rid itself of the foreign object cutting deep into flesh and scraping on bone. But that only made it worse for Sam. The woman had backed off and was smirking to herself, watching silently.

Dean's shouts and fighting increased at the sight, to the point where his chair was rocking, threatening to topple over.

With a tired sigh, the Trickster gave him her attention, "What do you want?" with a wave of her hand the gag was gone.

"You bitch!" Dean shouted, continuing to fight aggressively against his bindings, "Fix him! Or I swear to God when I get out of this chair I will tear you limb from limb with my own hands."

The Trickster scoffed, "I think you've been getting your monsters mixed up. We don't 'fix' people, sweet cheeks. Now, answer me this , where is he?"

Dean was too riled up to even think about trying to paste an oblivious look on his face, "Where's who?" he growled, hoping that the hatred that contorted his features was enough to hide anything else.

The Trickster smirked sauntering closer to Sam and running her fingers down the hilt of the knife, making Sam swear under his breath, eyes still screwed shut, "Don't mess with me. I don't play so nice. You know exactly who I'm talking about."

Dean fidgeted as he eyed the knife, "I don't know alright?" he urged, putting as much conviction into his words as he could muster. The sight of Sam with his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like the tendons in his neck might snap certainly helped, "I don't know where the other Trickster is."

"Is that true Sam?" the Trickster asked, leaning down and wrapping her hand around the knife eliciting a gasp of pain from Sam.

Sam lifted his head to stare defiantly into her eyes, "As far I know he's dead," Sam growled, before shooting Dean a pointed look. It possibly would have been more of a 'what have you not told me' look but all he could manage was a pleading, desperate glance.

"I wonder why I don't believe you," she muttered, before twisting the blade and making Sam scream once more.

"We don't know!" Dean yelled again, drawing the Trickster's attention, "We don't know where he is, alright? Trust me, if I knew, I would tell you so you could scoot along after him and you can do whatever the hell you want with him." It was true. Right now, with Sam gasping in pain as blood dribbled around his thigh and into a small pool on the floor he wanted nothing more than to stab Gabriel an excessive amount of times with his own sword. He was supposed to be here. To helped them. Cas too for that matter. Wasn't that what they had said? If he had known they would be going up against the Trickster on their own then he wouldn't have been quite so eager. But no, the angels had let them down and now Sam was hurt, again. Dean curled his fingers into fists and pretended the Archangel's throat was in them.

"You think I'm that stupid?" the Trickster replied airily, "I'm not about to go gallivanting off after something like that. Why'd you think I hadn't already? That's why Sam was so handy," she giggled to herself and ran a hand through Sam's hair as he just about managed a small confused frown between waves of pain. After a moment, her smile became sad, "But it looks like he's abandoned you huh? Poor baby," she perched on his uninjured leg and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Sam's frown deepened. Who'd abandoned him? He twisted his neck to send Dean another cry for help but Dean was staring helpless at the Trickster who was now in his brother's lap.

"But there are plenty of other fish in the sea," she giggled, twisting Sam's hair through her fingers.

The sound of wings echoed around the room and the Trickster turned her head sharply.

"Cas!" Dean gave a relieved sigh, only to take it back when he saw the dishevelled state the angel was in. His coat was torn, his face was beginning to bruise and a cut across his cheek oozed blood that dribbled down his chin and dripped onto his shirt already dirty shirt. His sword was already gripped in one and he set his eyes on the Trickster as he strode towards her, eyes fierce. But his gait was slow. Slow enough for the Trickster to flash a smirk at Dean before clicking her fingers and disappearing.

Cas stopped once she was gone, shoulders falling with a wince as though it pained him too much to hold them up any more. Sam let out the breath he was holding only to hiss it back again when the adrenaline level began to drop and his leg gave him a sharp reminder of what exactly he had stuck in it. Hearing it, Cas continued forward and placed a hand gently on Sam's injured leg. A moment later, Sam sighed in relief as the knife dropped to the floor, his leg healed and the bindings were removed from his wrists and ankles.

"Cas, what the hell happened?" Dean asked quickly, as the angel headed towards him biting back the quip about his tardiness given Cas's condition.

Cas swallowed and glanced at Sam momentarily before answering, "Things may be a little more complex than anticipated," he answered once he was close enough to speak without Sam hearing. Luckily, the younger Winchester was too intent on pushing himself cautiously out of his chair, the memory of the pain still fresh in his mind. Cas paused again to remove Dean's bindings, "Gabriel will meet us by the Impala."

"What?" Dean frowned as he stood up, checking that Sam wasn't listening. He had picked up the Trickster's knife and was turning it over in his hands. Dean was more than ready to fly off the handle at the absent Archangel and release all of the pent of rage he was harbouring. But now was not the time. After a second, he nodded and looked back to Cas, "How do we get rid of Sam before we meet up?"

Cas heaved a sigh and licked his lips nervously, "We…er…we don't."

**Lookie lookie! I managed it! I managed another chapter in between exams, I hope your proud xD Thank you for staying on and reading, it's so nice to think of you getting the 'new chapter' email and going clicking the link and everything it's just so awesome! *ahem* sorry…fangirling about the people reading my fic probably isn't normal…Moving on, I once again sincerely hoped you enjoyed this chapter and are still enjoying the story as whole. **

**Please review! Reviews are the…er…the, well, they're just awesome **

**xxxx**


	8. Chapter 8

It probably wasn't going to rain, Gabriel decided as he looked up at the clear, blue sky. It was one of the only things that he could add to the small list of positives of his day. Apart from that, there were very few. He'd missed the best chance he had to get the Trickster at the expense of the guy he was supposed to be protecting when a group of angels on the Raphael for president campaign jumped Cas. The ramifications of which he was about to face.

From his position leant up against the Impala, he had full view of the car lot entrance, probably the best way since at two of the group he was waiting for had a bucket load of reasons to try and thrust something sharp and pointy through his stomach. One of them knew how to do it in a way that was permanent. Though, there was some comfort in the fact that it wasn't the same one who was most likely going to try. Although, that luxury was quickly torn away by who that person was.

Realising the gum he was chewing had lost its flavour he quickly dug around in his pocket for a new stick and placed it on his tongue so that he could resume his nervous chewing. It was a nervousness he hadn't felt in a long time. Stage fright was the closest thing he could compare it to. He'd been acting for millennia, taken a short break and, suddenly, the act had a lot more riding on it.

Just as he was beginning to worry that something had happened to them, the unmistakable sound of the Winchesters became audible. Not too far off either. It seemed to be mostly the sound of Dean yelling at his brother to calm down. So they'd told him he would be here. And they'd probably kept up the Trickster ruse since Sam was clearly less than anxious about charging over. Gabriel shuffled in position before taking a quick shaky breath and relaxing back against the door of the Impala, folding his arms across his chest. The act was about to begin.

A moment later, Sam rounded the corner, the anger that shrouded his features was obvious even at a distance. The younger Winchester's determined pace faltered for a second as Gabriel flashed a self-satisfied smirk, if only to hide the tempest of feelings that were actually thrashing around his head. It got the desired reaction, bringing a genuine smile to Gabriel's face. Even through all of this, Sam still responded in just the way that he wanted him to.

"Howdy, Sam," he grinned when the Winchester was in earshot, noting Dean and Cas hurrying around the corner behind him.

For a moment, the Archangel allowed himself to believe that this was just one of their spats. Gabriel had maybe hidden Sam's favourite hat or something. The Winchester would yell for a bit, Gabriel would tease and taunt and offer its return in exchange something he wanted. After a while of bartering, the two of them would meet a final agreement that usually ended up as mutually beneficial, mostly involving a quiet hotel room in a warm country courtesy of Celestial Airlines.

That small daydream was shattered pretty quickly. Sam didn't stop for pleasantries. Instead, he steamed forward, seized the front of Gabriel's jacket and slammed him up against the Impala, hatred burning in his eyes. The act caught the Archangel completely by surprise and for a moment his shields were broken. Suddenly, he felt powerless. He was at Sam's mercy and if the Winchester wanted to hurt him, Gabriel would let him. Because any move to defend himself would be a move against Sam. And what would have been the point of this whole thing if Sam was suddenly hurt by an Archangel's misguided self-defence.

The malice in Sam's eyes was at a level Gabriel had only once before. It was after Sam had shown how far he was willing to go to save Dean back at the mystery spot, but the kid hadn't managed to stay strong for long. However, in Sam's memory, he'd staked the Trickster outside the diner in that town so Sam had never looked at anyone this way before.

The Archangel had known this was coming. Of course he had. To Sam, the last time they had met, Gabriel had kept him in a time loop and killed his brother a thousand times over. He'd been preparing himself for facing his hatred since he arrived at the Winchester's car. But imagining it and seeing it were two completely different things. Having the one you threw away everything to protect slam you against a car and meet your eyes with fiery loathing was never going to be something he could fully anticipate.

Just as Gabriel tried to collect himself, Sam pulled a red bladed dagger from his pocket and pressed the point to his neck. The cold metal gave him a small shock letting him regain his fumbling act.

He raised a mocking eyebrow and flicked his eyes to the knife, "That won't kill me you know."

Sam pressed his lips into a thin line, "It'll do until I can find a stake."

Gabriel blinked and his act stumbled. It was clear that Sam wouldn't miss a second of sleep if he killed Gabriel right here and now. And the thought hurt like an angel sword to the gut.

He swallowed back the lump in his throat and just about managed to contort the grief that welled in his stomach into a flash of fear before everything was buried under a teasing smirk.

"Now tell me, what the hell are you doing here," Sam growled, shaking him a little as he spoke.

Gabriel didn't trust himself to speak. He simply held Sam's gaze, affected a pissed glower and focused on blocking it all out. The smell of Sam's hair, the patterns in his irises, the curve of his jaw, the warmth of his body so close, so comforting. Everything. Gabriel buried it, trying to turn Sam into just another hunter that had him in his grasp, just some guy. But that was never going to succeed. No human had ever meant more. It did give him something to concentrate on that distracted him the almost overwhelming desire to force his way forward and bury his face into Sam's neck.

Fortunately, Dean and Cas soon caught up and dragged Sam away. The distance gave Gabriel the reprieve he needed to collect himself, hiding how flustered he was by straightening his jacket as though it was an expensive suit and running a hand through his hair.

Dean and Cas managed to pull Sam a good few feet away before finally letting him go. Both of them kept themselves between him and his target, watching him warily.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Sam demanded of his brother gesturing with the knife.

"I heard you were after a cousin of mine," Gabriel answered before Dean had the chance to do it, "And I thought I might be able to lend a hand."

Sam looked back to him with such scorn and disbelief Dean and Cas both readied themselves to step in again, "Yeah right. How did you even find out about this?"

He gave a casual shrug, "What can I say? I have friends in high places," Gabriel nodded at Cas, "And when I found out that someone was messing about with my two favourite hunters, well how could I resist?"

Sam spared Cas a betrayed glance before clenching and unclenching his fists and applying one of his classical bitchfaces that Gabriel had begun to catalogue a while back. This was one high up on the scale, "Why? Why would you want to help us? What's in it for you?"

The wrapper of his gum crinkled slightly as Gabriel got a fresh piece, "Well, just desserts, obviously. I mean it's not like you guys have done anything to deserve the attention of a Trickster right?"

"That never stopped you at the mystery spot," Sam hissed.

Gabriel dropped the smile altogether. The gnawing pain in his stomach was too much to keep the act up for that long. Besides, it was easy to hide pain behind flat out annoyance, "I was trying to help you Sam, you just never gave me the chance to explain how."

Sam glared at him. The Trickster that they had tried and failed to kill, twice now, was standing just a few feet away and everything about the situation felt strange. Well stranger than it should have been. Like the way Dean and Cas had pulled him away when he had him to the car, protecting him. Like the way the way the Trickster seemed so much less confident that the previous times they had met, there was a genuine caution in his eyes. Like the way his smirks and grins never quite met his eyes. Like the way Sam even noticed something like that, about the Trickster for God's sake.

"Look Sam," Dean interrupted his brother's thought train, "That bitch has disappeared. Again. We need all the help we can get."

Sam frowned at him incredulously, "Help from him? He killed you Dean! Hundreds and hundreds of times and you want his help?"

Dean fought to keep his voice calm holding his hands up in a calming gesture, "If he wanted to kill me again or you that matter, he wouldn't be standing there like a freaking car lot attendant waiting for a tip."

Sam glared his brother, grinding his teeth and reluctantly acknowledging his point with sharp exhale, shooting the Trickster a hateful look in the process.

"Dean has a point," Cas interjected, his tone just as neutral and steady as it always was. His wounds had healed on the journey from the warehouse. Neither of the Winchesters asked where they'd come from, Sam too distracted after they told him about the Trickster, Dean too distracted with keeping Sam from doing something stupid.

"Let's just get back to Bobby's and sort everything out," Dean said finally glancing between both Sam and the Trickster.

"You want to bring him back Bobby's?" Sam asked, getting more agitated by the second, waving the knife around like a pointer.

Dean looked his brother in the eye sternly, "Bobby's is the last place anything can hurt us. The guy has a freaking arsenal in the basement and we'll have an angel in the front room."

Sam set his lips in a tight line as he eyed the Trickster suspiciously, weighing up what the others had said. A tense minute of silence passed as until the Trickster's lips quirked in a smile and Sam narrowed his eyes.

"Fine, we go back to Bobby's," he snapped, moving towards the Impala and shoving the Trickster violently out of the way to get to the door.

"We'll catch up," Castiel said to Dean with a quick glance at his brother who bobbed his head in agreement.

Dean nodded and spared Gabriel a quick look, who raised his eyebrows at the hint of genuine sympathy in it before heading round the other side of the car and ducking into the driver's seat.

The angels stood silently, watching as the Impala growled into life and pulled out of the car lot, the Winchesters already in heated conversation that neither of them could hear. The silence stretched out until the engine's noise had receded into the distance and Gabriel released the breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. Castiel looked to his brother and licked his lips.

"Are you sure you want to be here? So close to him?" he ventured as Gabriel turned and went to seat himself on the low wall that bordered the car lot, "I could protect them on my own."

"Not if Raphael decides to take matters into his own hands you can't, you had enough trouble with those underlings of his before I could get to you," Gabriel looked up at his brother a smirk.

Cas swallowed and looked away, "I apologise that I cost you the Trickster."

Gabriel wafted a hand and wrinkled his nose, "Don't get your panties in a twist, there's still time, I'm just glad I got wind of it when I did. Raphael is a bigger threat at the moment anyhow," he took a deep breath and settled his arms on his thighs, looking to the floor, "It's easier if I'm here until the heat dies down, Balthazar can cover the Heaven situation."

"It's not easier for you."

Gabriel bit his bottom lip before covering with a chuckle, "Yeah, well, that's not important right now," he lifted his head to meet Cas's eyes with an earnest gaze before being distracted by watching a passer-by, momentarily amusing himself with the knowledge that they were completely oblivious to the fact that the two guys in the parking lot were actually some of the most powerful beings in existence.

Castiel seemed to fight with his own mind before nodding to himself and making a decision, "You know, I could do for you what you did for Sam. That way, you would no longer have to punish yourself."

The corner of Gabriel's mouth flickered and he smiled up at his brother, "That won't make a difference. You wipe my memory back to the same point as Sam's then I go on my merry way then I'll just get drawn right back to the guy, that's how it goes. Then this whole messy story just starts right back from the beginning. Besides, angels aren't so easily fooled by fixed memories," Gabriel shrugged, "I need to keep my head straight so that I know who I need to protect."

Cas nodded, letting the pause string out a couple of minutes before licking his lips and trying a new train of thought, "Sam wouldn't want you to suffer."

A breathy chuckle escaped from Gabriel's lips as he looked up again, "The kid just had a knife to my throat, something tells me that my well-being is high up on his list of priorities right now."

"Sam loved you," Cas replied firmly.

Gabriel screwed his eyes shut and shook his head, "Another trick of chance, shouldn't have happened."

"That's not true."

"Yeah, it is Cas," Gabriel replied forcefully, "Think about it. Those two meatheads don't kick start the apocalypse, they don't ask me for help and Sam never learns who I really am. And so, what you just saw there is how the rest of our interactions would have gone. We would have parted best enemies and best enemies is how we should have stayed."

"But that isn't what happened Gabriel," Cas pointed out and Gabriel's head bowed, "Sam learned who you were and you helped them avert the end of the world. In the process, Sam fell in love with you and you with him," he paused, ignoring the indignant snort from his brother, "And now you've cut yourself off from the only happiness you've known for a long time."

"Let's not go there, Cas," Gabriel snapped, "It's better if I just get this done, kill that Trickster and blow out of here. Trust me."

"How can you know this is the best course of action?" Cas asked, frowning, almost annoyed.

"Because people who get close to me get hurt," Gabriel retorted a hint of anger in his voice, "That's just how it goes. Luci, Khali, Sam, and hell even you were in the firing line back in the old days."

"None of that was your fault."

Gabriel rolled his eyes and let his head fall back on his shoulders, "Save it, Cas. I'm not crying over spilt milk," he sighed pushed himself to his feet, "I'm just pushing the bottle far enough away that it doesn't happen again."

Cas regarded his brother with a long evaluative gaze before seeming to come to a decision nodding his head almost unnoticeably, "I see. We should head to Bobby's."

"Yeah, need make sure Steel Wheels doesn't blow our cover," Gabriel agreed glancing out of the entrance of the car lot.

Cas followed his brother's gaze, "Do you have a plan on how to track down this Trickster?"

"I've always had more of a talent for improvising," Gabriel raised an eyebrow at Castiel, smirking, "You alright to fly bro? Or did those big bad angels rough you up too much."

Cas bristled and whatever he had been considering seemed forgotten, "I can fly fine."

Gabriel raised his eyebrows, "Well then, last one to Bobby's is a fallen angel," with that he stuck out his tongue and disappeared.

**Hey guys! You're still here! Woop woop. Another chapter, I know it's awesome right xD**

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**xxxx**


	9. Chapter 9

"So let me get this straight," Bobby started cutting through the silence that had descended on the room, frowning at the Archangel sprawled out on his sofa like he owned the place. "You have to move back in for a while because Raphael is on the attack and his most likely target is the Winchesters and anyone who ever breathed the same air as them. All the while we have to carry on pretending that you're the Trickster that killed Dean thousands of times at the mystery spot, who Sam consequently killed, only for you to have miraculously survived. Again. And have returned in the hopes of helping us kill this real Trickster."

"That's about the size of it," Gabriel nodded, approving of the quick summary.

"Well I'm glad the plan is clear and simple," Bobby muttered sarcastically. "Remind me why you can't just change things back to the way they were?"

Gabriel sighed and rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to explain this?" he grumbled sitting forward on the sofa and spreading his hands in front of him. "Tricksters are fairly low creatures in the supernatural hierarchy. Powerful and imaginative hell yes, but smart? Mm, they're not winning any Nobel prizes. However, they're very good lie detectors. Sam could have argued his innocence about me until the day he dies but if he doesn't believe it, then a Trickster won't either."

"What difference would that make? Surely it doesn't matter what Sam believes if the Trickster already knows the two of you are connected," Cas interjected from his position leant against the doorway.

"You'd be surprised. Tricksters are under almost as strict rules as we were," Gabriel explained. "I mean I could bypass them fairly easily for obvious reasons. But the others, they can't do anything unless the person knows their wrongdoing. Sam knew my wrongdoings and so was an acceptable, if a little taboo, target through which to get to me because he almost rewarded me by not killing me for it. That's punishable in itself. Confronting an Archangel about his past crimes is never a good plan. You see?"

There was a short pause as Bobby processed what Gabriel had just said. "I see that Trickster justice is messed up," he retorted eventually.

Gabriel shrugged. "You knew that anyway. I tried not to get so wrapped up in the red tape of it all."

"But what about after this is over?" Castiel asked, regarding his brother intensely.

Gabriel licked his lips and exhaled through his nose loudly. "Nothing changes," he stated, looking away. "That bitch isn't the only Trickster out there and she isn't the meanest by far. I'm not going to risk it," he leant back on the sofa and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Besides now that Raphael's made his position clear, I've got bigger fish to fry once this is done with."

"How are you planning to get this done with?" Bobby asked after a short, heavy silence.

Gabriel gave a teasing scowl. "I don't know why you're looking at me; I'm just the hired muscle now."

Bobby glared at him before shaking his head, deciding it wasn't worth it. "Well Sam mentioned a while back that he used a ritual to try and summon you back at the mystery spot. We could try that even if it didn't double up as an Archangel whistle."

Gabriel shook his head. "That ritual wouldn't have worked anyway, even if I was one of them. He didn't have the right ingredients."

"What else would be required?" Cas asked, his intentions clear in his tone.

Gabriel waved a hand. "It's something gotten directly from the Trickster Cas. We can't find the Trickster in the first place so that option is out."

Bobby groaned softly. "Is there any rituals that actually work?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Like I said, I tried to stay on the fringes of their society."

"Well aren't you helpful," the old hunter grumbled, turning his chair away and wheeling over to one of the old bookshelves, prepared to begin the no doubt very long search for any kind of information that might help them.

When Dean and Sam returned later that night, the three of them were still buried in the research. The Winchesters joined in immediately, even if Sam was still somewhat wary of working so closely with what he saw as one of the more powerful enemies that they had faced. This was both made better and worse by Gabriel's insistence on disappearing at random intervals for unknown periods of time. 'Checking up on a few connections,' Gabriel had explained when Sam demanded to know where he kept going. He was actually making quick rounds of the area and meeting up with various angels on his own side of the heavenly civil war for plans and reports. But of course he wasn't going to be announcing that business to Sam and Team Archangel Undercover.

The research continued fruitlessly into the night. They could find no rituals of summoning nor tracking that they could plausibly use in any of the lore than Bobby kept in his library and the internet was no more helpful. Not only that, but the Trickster herself seemed to have gone underground. There weren't even any killings that they could use to track her position.

It was well past 2am when the air of desperation had finally built to a point where the research was abandoned for the night. The three humans each retreated to their beds and Castiel insisted on taking a watch, arguing that Gabriel should allow himself at least a short respite if he truly planned on eventually going up against Raphael. After a long debate, Gabriel finally agreed but made sure that Cas would return for help at the slightest threat.

Once his brother had gone, Gabriel found himself alone in the house that he had seemed to spend a lot of his time in not so long distant times. He could see why the Winchesters were so fond of having a semi-permanent home. Taking a deep breath he glanced up at the ceiling, knowing full well that Sam, his Sam, was sleeping directly above him; or at least trying to. It was only an hour or so later that footsteps crossed the landing and began to descend the stairs.

Sam rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands as he reached the ground floor, having decided that sleep wasn't on the cards tonight. He'd been trying for the past hour but it wasn't working so well. There was just too much on his mind, which wasn't helped by the new found information in the form of two feathers found tucked under one of his pillows. The whole thing was getting more and more tangled. With a stifled yawn, Sam pushed his hands back into the pockets of the loose sweat pants he wore for sleeping and thumbed the feathers he had found. They were inexplicably comforting.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?"

Sam flinched as he entered the kitchen to find the short Trickster stood on his tip toes to search through the cupboards above the countertop.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, frowning.

The Trickster continued to rummage through Bobby's cupboards. "I'm training next year's child chess prodigy. Why? What are you doing?"

Sam folded his arms across his chest. "Can't you just create whatever you want out of thin air?"

"Yeah, but it never tastes quite right. Human food is always better," he continued, searching fruitlessly through Bobby's limited supplies. "What are you doing up anyway? Have a bad dream?"

Sam scowled at the Trickster's back. "What's it to you?"

The Trickster turned to meet it, holding his hands up in surrender, one of them now clutching a bar of chocolate that looked like it came from the nineties. "All right, no need to get snappy with me, just trying to make conversation," he sniffed and lowered his hands, unwrapping the candy. "Besides, probably better to keep it all bottled up, that's what all the experts say anyway."

Sam raised an eyebrow as the Trickster hopped onto the counter and sat there, swinging his legs as the two of them eyed each other. "You want me to pour my heart out to you? A monster who messes with people for fun."

The Trickster frowned defensively and pouted a little as he took a bite of chocolate. "I'm a monster who gives people what they deserve," he shrugged with a smirk. "The fun is just a bonus."

Sam scoffed.

"Hey, I'm just trying to change the world one little problem at a time."

"And you're saying I'm a problem."

"I'm saying you've got them," the Trickster replied, pointing the chocolate like a baton before shrugging again and taking another bite of it. "But hey, what do I care? I'm only a monster. I'm sure Dean has an absorbent shoulder to cry on. Mine's a bit low down anyhow."

Sam gave a breathy chuckle and shook his head. "Yeah, right, Dean isn't exactly the best listener."

"So you are looking for a sympathetic ear."

"Why? Are you offering?" Sam snapped back airily.

"No, I'm just pointing out the fact I was right," he flashed a grin and finished his chocolate.

Sam glared at the Trickster for a long moment. He hadn't expected talking to him face to face to be so easy. Even that short exchange, he found himself not wanting the conversation to end. Something about his manner, his constant cheer was something that Sam had to admit was contagious; it drew Sam to him like a moth to a flame. With a snort, Sam shook his head to clear his thoughts. Whoever had messed with his head had done a damn good job of it. After a long moment of watching the Trickster hop off the counter and begin another search of the food like some hungry child, Sam released a long sigh and asked himself once again why he was about to do this.

"Can I ask you something?"

The Trickster turned, one hand still in the cupboard as though laying claim to it, raising a lazy eyebrow at him. "Milk works really well."

Sam frowned. "What?"

"You weren't going to ask about the secret to my luscious hair?" the Trickster asked, tossing his head back in emphasis.

"Um, no, that's not what I wanted to ask…"

The Trickster made a disappointed noise before turning to fully face him, arms crossed across his chest. "No one ever asks about the hair. So what was it you wanted?"

Sam regarded the Trickster for a long moment before licking his lips and letting his arms drop to his sides. "Is there someone who's not here that should be?"

Conflict seemed to pass across the Trickster's face but it was so fleeting it could well have been Sam's imagination since the derision that replaced it was obvious. "You mean apart from a psychiatrist? Or perhaps men in white coats?"

Sam sighed and looked to the floor. "Well it was a long shot…"

The Trickster tilted his head, a new look in his eye. Was that pity? "Why are you asking anyway?"

Sam swallowed and lifted his head with a shrug. "Because it feels like there should be?" he answered then rubbed a hand over his face when a raised eyebrow from the Trickster demanded further explanation. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"Because you'll probably never see me again after this," the Trickster replied flatly. "Won't be any awkward car journeys or therapy Dean-style involving a shotgun and three bottles of the cheapest whisky on the planet. There is a whole host of reasons really."

Despite himself, Sam chuckled and conceded the point.

"Besides anything I can do to get in on the Winchesters good side is a plus. Pretending to be staked is one hell of a hassle."

"Don't push it," Sam muttered, lowering himself into a nearby chair, finding himself surprisingly at ease. "Dean and I still argue about how you did that."

The Trickster smirked. "I doubt you meatheads would be able to guess. But we're not here about me," he lifted a hand and snapped, producing a glass of milk on the table next to Sam.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"What? It's warm."

Sam shook his head in exasperation, fighting the smile on his face and ignoring the glass.

Once Sam's smile died, a heavy atmosphere descended. The Trickster broke the silence that threatened before it had a chance to smother them. "So you gonna walk me through that melon of yours?"

Sam licked his lips and looked to the floor. "That's kind of the thing. I don't think I could if I wanted to. From what I can stick together, when I was with your friend, she did something my head. Or at least someone did. I don't remember the week before it and a ton of random memories are just gone. Hell I don't even remember how we stuck Lucifer back in the cage. I mean you don't just forget something like that."

The Trickster shrugged nonchalantly. "Human minds are as easily broken as glass in a tumble dryer. With enough pounding they shut down and close off. Push too far and they shatter completely. Gets kind of annoying when you press too hard on someone and they forget the lesson you're trying to teach them."

Sam wasn't smiling this time.

"What makes you so sure that someone is missing anyway?" the Trickster asked, gaze now focused and intense.

"It's the only thing I can find that might link what I'm missing," Sam explained, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "There's a load of little things that I'm not sure if they're just my imagination or not. Like I wake up in the middle of the night and panic because I'm on my own. When I'm on my computer I'm constantly on edge because I'm just waiting for someone to come up behind me," he stopped and ran a hand through his hair. "I just miss someone; all the time."

"How can you miss someone if you don't know if they actually exist?" the Trickster asked, but his tone wasn't the scathing and mocking one that Sam was expecting.

Sam gave a weak chuckle. "I was wondering the same thing."

There was a short pause as the Trickster seemed to contemplate what Sam had said. Who'd have thought the guy could be a good listener? A couple of minutes passed before the Trickster took a deep breath and turned back to the cupboards.

"You'd think he would have thought of that," he commented lightly, once again rummaging for food.

"Yeah tell me about it," Sam muttered about to bury his forehead in his hands when a thought occurred to him and he frowned at the Trickster. "Hang on, he? Do you know something?"

The Trickster froze momentarily before continuing his search. "No," he answered firmly, not turning around.

"Then how do you they're a he?"

The Trickster shrugged silently.

"Please," Sam begged. "All I want is answers."

The Trickster shook his head as he turned. "I'll give you some advice for free. Forget about it."

"That's the problem!" Sam sat forward a bit in his chair. "I already did. And whoever made it happen did a piss-poor job in my opinion. I clearly didn't want to forget, and now it's happened, I want it back."

The Trickster took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. "Fine. Yes I know who it was but don't look so damn hopeful, I'm not about to tell you who it was."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because the guy's a douchebag," the Trickster spat back, sudden anger lining his features. "He lords over everyone like some kind of emperor, manipulating and twisting people into doing what he wants. All the while, he goes off on his own little wanderings shirking every single responsibility he ever had because of cowardice. And whilst he's off enjoying his life he leaves a path of pissed of acquaintances behind him. But since he doesn't face up to them, people get hurt because of it. People he loves get hurt," the Trickster sighed and looked away. "This is possibly the first good thing he's ever done."

Sam frowned thoughtfully as he studied his hands. The outburst was unexpected but at least now he had some kind of answer; at least it wasn't just his imagination. After a while he licked his lips. "He can't have been that bad," he ventured, drawing a questioning eyebrow from the Trickster. "I mean I loved him right?"

The Trickster's throat bobbed as he swallowed and looked to the floor. "Yeah…well that was the impression he got anyway."

Another silence stretched out between them until Sam returned one hand to his trouser pocket and remembered what was there. "Was he an angel?"

The Trickster frowned. "An angel? That's pretty specific."

Sam withdrew his hand and presented the clasped in his fingers. "Well I found these in my bed."

The Trickster stared at the feather for a long moment before raising his eyebrows. "Maybe you shouldn't be bringing home the golden goose," he retorted sarcastically.

Sam ignored the comment, focused on the feather. "He was wasn't he?"

The Trickster took a deep breath. "Yeah. Not that changes anything. Have you met the angels? Most of them are complete dicks. Cas being the only exception. So I'd drop the whole subject, kick far away and turn and walk in the opposite direction if I were you."

"But you're not me," Sam replied, simply. "Can't you -"

"I said drop it!"

Sam snapped his mouth shut at the force of his words and gazed pensively at the floor for a long moment before fixing his eyes on the Trickster again, even if the guy had turned away already. "Hey, if you ever see him again, could you tell him? Tell him I miss him?"

Gabriel screwed his eyes shut but didn't turn. He simply waited silently as Sam stood and left the room. Only once the Winchester's footsteps sounded from the room above him did Gabriel find the strength to run his hand through his hair and drop into the seat that Sam had just vacated; if only to feel Sam's comforting warmth.

**So this chapter was slightly longer than the others. Not sure why, it just happened…Neeway, as usual I really hope you're enjoying this fic and this chapters **

**Let me know what you think of it!**

**xxxx**


	10. Chapter 10

"I'd be careful Gabriel," Balthazar finished his report with a note of seriousness that anyone who was less well versed in the arts of sarcasm would have missed. Gabriel caught it easily. "Long story short, Raphael walks the Earth."

Gabriel ran a hand through his hair. This was exactly what he did not need right now. The Winchester's trickster problem was still not dealt with, even after several days of fruitless searching. Plus, since Gabriel had managed to get ahead of himself and let slip to Sam that he knew something, the kid had been no less pestering. Whenever the two of them were alone he would ask a little off hand question. Just the one. Maybe just menial things like 'what was his hair colour' or 'more like Cas or more like Balthazar'. Those kinds of thing, Gabriel could blunder his way through with twisted descriptions of himself without drawing any kind of attention from Sam. The answers seemed to help bring Sam out of the darkness that the memory loss had left him. It was the deeper questions he avoided. Like 'where is he now' or 'is he happy'. The worst one was simply 'why'. Those ones were the ones that Gabriel outwardly refused to answer, plying the kid with some half-arsed excuse of 'he'd kill me if I told you'. But it was getting harder to fight that look of complete loss whenever Sam heard it.

Not only that but Dean was constantly glowering at him and muttering back handed comments at him at every opportunity. Cas had developed a habit of fussing over him and his wellbeing whenever he got the chance. It seemed like Bobby was the only one he could have any kind of normal conversation with. But the old hunter wasn't exactly talkative most of the time.

Overall it had been a stressful few days. And now the Raphael problem had just gotten a whole lot worse. Raphael without a vessel could be dealt within the celestial realms. Raphael with a vessel meant the battle was brought groundside.

"So much for keeping hold of his meat suit," he replied almost teasingly, were it not for the lack of smirk and the missing glint in his eye.

"We tried," Balthazar responded rubbing the back of his head and glancing around the old barn the two angels were meeting in. "But it turns out Raphael had a few unexpected tricks up his sleeve."

Gabriel smirked at that, but it quickly faded. "Where is he now?"

"Trying to find your softball team I assume," Balthazar replied with a nonchalant shrug, looking back to the Archangel standing across from him, "but exactly how far along he is or where that search has taken him we don't know. He's moving pretty quickly."

The Archangel nodded and pursed his lips as he processed the new information. His priorities remained the same, no matter what he needed to make sure the Winchesters were safe while they dealt with the trickster but while Raphael remained in heaven he knew he would only have to deal with his brother's lackeys at most. But now that Raphael was walking on his own two legs, Gabriel would have to revise that. "All right, keep him busy for now as best you can without getting yourselves killed, I'll be done with the hunter brigade soon."

"We'd all appreciate it if you could hurry that up," Balthazar replied shortly. "Forgive me, but I think your priorities should be elsewhere right now."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Look, the way I see it, Raphael and I are going to be meeting whether I go to him or he comes to me. This way, I can make sure the Winchesters are safe."

Balthazar snorted. "So you can make sure Sam is safe you mean. Oh don't look at me like that Gabe, it was never a secret. He would be safer if you dealt with Raphael sooner rather than later."

"There are other dangers out there Balthy," Gabriel replied. "I want to at least remove some of them before…well you know."

Balthazar looked away with a small note, thinking better of any biting retort he had lined up. "It won't come to that."

Gabriel shrugged. "It might," he replied carelessly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Keep me in the loop, last thing I need is King Douchenose throwing me a surprise reception."

Balthazar gave a tight smile and small nod. "I'll do my best Gabe, but I'm not sure how much time we'll have spare for secret meetings and the pony express."

"I'll be done in three days," Gabriel promised.

"You'd better be, not sure we can hold him off that long," Balthazar responded before taking a deep breath. "See you round Gabe."

With that, Balthazar disappeared in a rustle of feathers, leaving Gabriel to gaze at his feet for a long moment, re-evaluating his plans for the next few days. There wasn't much of them to start with but the little that was there was suddenly on a much stricter timescale.

There was a thick air of hopelessness when the Trickster reappeared in Bobby's front room. Cas, sitting at the kitchen table, was the first to react to his presence, probably because he had noticed his approach long before he actually arrived. A quick shake of the Archangel's head quelled the questions on Castiel's mind and gave a silent promise to answer them later. The Winchesters and Bobby noticed a second later, each looking up from their respective research, well except Dean who simply rolled his head from resting his forehead on the open book to resting his temple on the open book regarding the Trickster with half closed eyes.

"Anything useful?" Sam asked as the Trickster strolled into the room and dropped onto the sofa beside him.

"Oh plenty. Nothing that would help us though," he replied with an apologetic shrug. "Sorry kid."

Dean groaned, sat up and slammed his book shut. "That's it. We've got nothing," he announced, standing up and heading for the kitchen, Sam watched with a small frown.

"You're giving up?" Sam asked quickly as Dean leant down to pull a beer out of the fridge.

"Sam we've got jacksquat, no leads, no clues, no freaking idea where she might be!" Dean replied shortly from the kitchen, twisting the top of his drink off and leaning against the kitchen counter. "What are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know, maybe keep looking?" Sam retorted as though it was obvious.

Dean scowled as he took a swig of beer and swallowed. "Looking where? We're out of options Sam. And we can't just bury ourselves in this forever."

Sam licked his lips and looked down at the book he had been reading through momentarily before lifting his gaze back to his brother. "Come on, I really need to deal with this Dean. I've lost a ton of my memories that I'm probably never going to be getting back." His eyes subconsciously ticked sideways to the Trickster who was looking around the room, anywhere but Sam. "This is the only form of closure I'm going to get."

Dean regarded Sam for a moment, bottle resting on his lips. After a moment he sighed and it lowered. "I'm just saying we've got nothing to go on Sammy," he lifted his arms slightly and let them fall back against his sides, futilely. "There's nothing else we can do."

The atmosphere seemed to somehow take on yet another layer of tension. Silence settled over the group as Sam went back to reading, heading hanging a little lower despite the determined expression on his face. Bobby had raised an accusatory eyebrow at Dean who just ignored it, focusing on his drink. The quiet stretched out for a long, uncomfortable moment until Trickster frowned and leant forward, peering at something on Bobby's desk. Suddenly, he tilted his head and pushed himself to his feet.

"What is it?" Sam asked, watching curiously.

The Trickster didn't reply until he had crossed the room and picked up the red knife that Sam had put on the table earlier that day when they were gathering together what they had on the second trickster. He turned it over in his hands, a small crease in his forehead as he did.

"Is this the knife you threatened me with the other day?" he asked, turning to Sam and holding up the weapon.

Sam nodded silently, quietly and surprisingly ashamed that he had threatened the guy in the first place. Over the last couple of days of talking to him and getting to know the Trickster, his opinion of the guy had shifted massively, to the point where Sam would call him an ally and, reluctantly, a friend.

The Trickster nodded to himself, continuing to inspect the blade apparently unaware of the hints of guilt that Sam was feeling. "She made it didn't she?" he asked, but it was clear he knew he was right anyway. He inwardly cursed himself. Human emotions really did get in the way. If he hadn't been so damn flustered when Sam had pressed it to his throat he would have recognised it then and they could have saved themselves a few days.

"What difference does that make?" Bobby asked, interrupting Trickster's thoughts.

He looked up from it to meet the old hunter's gaze, raising an eyebrow. "It really is in one ear and out the other with you human's isn't it?" Bobby scowled and the Trickster smirked. "The summoning ritual," he said plainly.

"I thought you said we needed something of hers for that to work."

The Trickster waved the knife in front of him. "This is hers."

Dean frowned. "It's just a knife."

The Trickster turned to look at him, half presenting, half pointing the knife at Dean. "It's a knife that she made. It's as much of a body part as an arm or a leg. When a trickster makes something they leave a tiny part of themselves on it. A bit like its very own signature. Just in case we have the misfortune to wander into occupied territory. Helps a lot when your fellows can be literally anyone or anything. Besides, don't want some schmuck taking the credit for your hard work."

Dean just rolled his eyes.

"So you're saying with that we can summon her?" Sam asked, renewed eager in his voice.

"Well we still need the other ingredients," the Trickster replied then smiled, "but yeah, with this we can summon her. Be warned though, she'll be pissed."

Sam couldn't stop the corner of his lip from lifting. It seemed things were finally going his way, even just a little.

"Quick question," Dean interjected, holding up his hand like a kid in class, "where are you going to be when this goes down?"

The Trickster raised his eyebrows and inhaled through his teeth, "That depends how quickly you lot can get this scavenger hunt done. I've got a life. Besides, an angel and two of the greatest hunters on the planet should be able to take down a trickster if the goings get rough. Besides, I wouldn't want to steal the thunder of your first trickster kill," he teased, smirking between the Winchesters. Neither of which were smiling.

"So you won't be there?" Sam asked, doing his best to ignore the sudden and surprising note of dismay that came with the thought of the Trickster's absence.

Over the last few days he'd found himself talking with him more than he would ever have expected. He was the only link he had to whoever it was that had been taken from Sam's memories. Well, that's how it had started anyway. Over time, Sam found their conversations turning away from his past towards everything else besides. Stories of the Trickster's life (some repeatable, some that he wanted to forget), quick bouts of exchanged banter that left Sam in an oddly cheered mood. And when he wasn't in such a great mood, as was more often the case, the Trickster was always easy to be found, just in the next room being unusually loud or coincidentally going to find Sam anyway for reasons he never actually mentioned. Thinking about it, Sam realised the note of dismay shouldn't have been all that surprising.

The Trickster turned back to face Sam with a casual shrug. "I'm on a tight schedule. This was never going to be a permanent gig anyhow."

Sam swallowed and looked to the floor.

"But the sooner you guys quit dragging ass and getting to it, the more likely I can spare a minute. I'm fairly sure Bobby found the ritual in one of the books on his desk yesterday," the Trickster said, glancing at each of them in the room. An expectant silence hung in the air until the Trickster clapped his hands sharply, making them all flinch. "Well come on! She's not going to sort this out herself!" he announced, sparing Sam a sly smirk as Cas descended on the books, with Dean and Bobby joining in a moment after, muttering begrudgingly.

Things were finally moving forward.

**Hey hey hey. Sorry for the massive gap between chapters…again. Um…yeah no excuses really…Thanks for sticking around though! It really means a lot. Please review? You know you want to. Just a couple of minutes. One quick finger click and a few key strokes and you're done! It's a piece of cake. Although I wouldn't try typing with a piece of cake, that would only end messily…**

**Loves! xxxxx**


	11. Chapter 11

It was a couple of weeks before the ingredients for the ritual were successfully gathered. With only Sam, Dean and Bobby on the search, it had taken much longer than any of them would have liked. Gabriel and Cas had been coming and going a lot since the ritual had been revealed in the first place, often several times a day. Where they were going or why, was a big secret that not even Dean or Bobby were allowed to know. They would disappear without a word and return anywhere from an hour to two days later with no mention of what had happened. One thing that seemed to be consistent was that Gabriel was becoming more and more haggard and impatient as the days passed. Sometimes he would appear and collapse on the sofa with nothing but an 'mmph' as a greeting. Meanwhile Cas seemed to be developing an unusually anxious manner around his brother, standing never more than arms reach from him and insisting on making him rest and stopping from using his powers whenever Cas could do it for him.

There was one upside to it the angel's intermittent presence. Without Gabriel around much and the ingredients for the ritual to be collected, Sam was kept busy. Without too much time on his hands, the constant questions that had sprung up about the mystery angel that Trickster had told him about relented. Something that Dean was more than happy about. After he'd found about what Gabriel had managed to do he'd nearly strangled the guy.

Not that he got very far. The whole Archangel thing was enough on its on but the Archangel was never around, disappearing off with no clue as to where he was going or where he'd been. No matter how many times Dean had pushed, Gabriel was able to brush past every argument that Dean threw at him and Castiel wasn't going to budge from the orders that he'd been given by his brother. Their lips were sealed. To the endless frustration of Dean. He'd gotten into shouting matches almost every time he came face to face with the Archangel and nearly gotten himself disintegrated on multiple occasions.

The last fight had gotten so heated he'd nearly blown Gabriel's cover. Had Castiel not stepped in when he did and muttered something quietly to his brother and the two of them disappearing off somewhere, Dean may have ended up plastered across the seven continents.

That had been four days ago. No matter how many times any of them tried to get in contact, they heard nothing back from any of them.

Dean sighed as he looked up from the book to where Sam was preparing some unknown item on Bobby's countertop.

"You know, the last ingredient we need is a gallon of fresh human blood?" Dean commented, drawing Sam's attention. A part of him was well aware that Sam had planned to use this very ritual himself once. Where he had planned to get the blood from, Dean didn't want to know.

Sam glanced up from whatever it was that he was preparing and nodded, "Yeah I know. I saw earlier. Where are we going to get that? It's enough to kill someone."

Dean snorted, silently thankful that Sam hadn't remembered from his previous experience from the ritual, "No idea. But without it we got no ritual," he ran a hand through his hair, "This would be a perfect time for a little celestial assistance!" he called a little louder than necessary, in some vain hope.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him, "Save it Dean, I've been trying for ages. Do you even have any idea where they are? Or how they're doing?"

"No," Dean replied, with a tone that made it obvious he was sick of being asked, "Why do you care how they're doing? They're pretty damn powerful, I'm sure they're just peachy probably lounging it up on some beach drinking cocktails and skinny dipping."

Sam shrugged, "I'm just thinking we're nearly ready and I don't want to go through with this without our Trickster here."

Dean paused, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly, "Our Trickster? I didn't know you were so attached."

A flustered look dropped onto Sam's face and he turned away quickly, "You know what I mean."

Dean's eyebrows went up, "You are aren't you! Are you serious Sam? You know who he is right?"

Sam turned with a disdainful sigh, "Ok, Dean, I get it. Just drop it ok! We've had this conversation!"

Dean blinked, caught completely off guard. It was true, they had had that conversation, but that was when Dean first found out about how Sam was feeling about the Archangel Gabriel. Months ago. A time that Sam shouldn't remember. Taking a couple of seconds to get himself sorted, Dean licked his lips.

"No we haven't Sam," he replied, gaining an scowl from his brother.

"Yes we have Dean, just the other…"Sam drifted off as he found himself unable to find the information he was looking for, "I'm sure we have."

"I doubt it, since when was the last time you thought about hooking with a Trickster?" Dean asked, hoping to god that he wasn't just making things worse.

Sam glowered at the floor for a moment before exhaling sharply, "Yeah I guess."

"Exactly, we just need to finish this ritual and he can get the hell out of our hair," Dean said with a nod, trying to ignore the dejected sigh of his brother, "It would just be easier if we had a little winged help!"

"Forget it Dean. They'll be half away around the Earth by now, if they're still on the planet at all."

"Actually it is rare for us to leave Earth."

Dean flinched at the angel appeared in the corner of the room, "Dammit Cas, we need some kind of early warning system. One of these days you're going get yourself shot."

"My apologies," Cas replied, bowing his head slightly, "In regards to your worries about the final ingredients. The Trickster will be dealing with that."

Dean narrowed his eyes, "I'm not sure I like the sound of that…"

"Hey, you know when he's coming back?" Sam asked, turning fully away from the counter, ignoring the warning look that Dean was sending him.

"I don't know, he didn't say," Cas replied, a regretful tone to his voice, "He still has some…business that he needs to deal with."

With a nod, Sam's shoulder's sagged almost unnoticeably before turning back to what he was doing. Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother's back before shaking his head and looking back to Cas, "We could really do with his help you know."

"I'm sorry, but he has other priorities at the moment," Cas replied shortly, "He will return as soon as he is able."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Yeah course he will."

"Dean stop getting so worked up about it?" Sam interjected from the kitchen, "It was you who got into that argument with him in the first place."

Dean glowered at his brother, "It's not my fault he ran off."

"He left because Cas convinced him not to kill you," Sam pointed out, shooting Dean a look over his shoulder.

Dean shuffled a little in his seat and reopened the book in front of him, muttering something inaudible. Sam smirked at the victory and returned to what he was doing.

"Well I've finished setting up out back," Bobby announced as he wheeled in from the porch, "Any news on featherhead number two?"

"Turns out he has more important things to do," Dean grumbled, violently turning the pages of the book he wasn't quite reading.

Bobby rolled his eyes, "Well you'll have to put a complaint in with demi-god human resources."

Dean glowered at the older hunter, but said nothing.

Bobby flashed him a sarcastic smile before exhaling, "So you two knuckleheads manage to quit your whining long enough to get everything sorted?"

"Think so," Sam answered, laying down the knife he had been using, lifting the chopping board and scraping herbs into a wooden bowl placed close to him on the counter, "There's still one thing we need though," he added, hesitantly.

Bobby nodded with a heavy sigh, "Yeah I know. Anyone willing to volunteer?"

"There will be no need," Cas said, "The Trickster has already promised to provide the final ingredients. He will bring it when the rest of the ritual is prepared."

Bobby eyed the angel for a long moment, "Well that doesn't sound ominous at all."

"My thoughts exactly," Dean muttered, shutting the book, "Hang on, if he's so busy, how will he know that we're ready?"

"You never heard of the Force?" the Trickster smirked, appearing seated on the desk directly in front of Dean, causing the Winchester to recoil violently, almost falling backwards off the chair he was sat in. Sam stifled a chuckle as Dean jumped out of the chair and glowered violently at him. The Trickster's mouth lifted into a cocky smile, "So, you ready to get this fire burning?"

Bobby scanned his gaze over him, "We are as soon as we have the blood that, rumour has it, you were bringing to the party."

The Trickster spun on the table and snapped his fingers, materialising a gallon bottle beside him that was thankfully opaque, "I was always taught not to come to party empty handed."

Bobby eyed the bottle suspiciously, "I don't want to know where you got that from," he muttered to himself before gesturing out the back door, "We set up in the garage."

"Well then, last one there's a rotten egg," the Trickster grinned and disappeared, along with the bottle and Cas, leaving the hunters mildly bewildered.

Gabriel sagged a little when he reached the garage, sending Cas a reassuring smile as the angel appeared beside him and immediately shuffled closer to him. Once he was sure that Cas was placated he placed the bottle on the table and looked around at the markings and sigils the Winchesters had set up. The main one had been draw out on the garage floor, the Trickster's red knife stabbed into the ground at its centre. They were all drawn out to the specifications that he had supplied.

"This looks like it'll be fine," Gabriel nodded to himself snapping his fingers to touch up some of the thinner lines.

Castiel spared only the quickest of glances before returning his gaze to his brother, a concerned look in his eye, "What happened Gabriel? Why did you send me away?"

"You were cramping my style," he replied flashing a grin before turning and calling across the scrap yard, "Could you lot walk any slower? This blood ain't getting any fresher!"

There was an incoherent grumble as a response, probably from Dean. Gabriel flashed Cas a victorious smirk and turned away.

"I'm serious Gabriel," Cas urged, "If there is something I can do, tell me and I will do it."

Gabriel shook his head and wafted his hand, "Not this time Cas."

The angel held his brother's gaze for a long moment before nodding. He said nothing more as the hunters arrived, but made sure to place himself close to his brother, ready to heed anything that Gabriel might ask of him. But as soon as the Winchesters entered the garage the Archangel's shoulders were pulled back and his mask of cheery sarcasm was dropped back into place. The atmosphere was too charged for any proper conversation to be exchanged. The only one who even acknowledged him at all was Sam who flashed him a small, nervous smile as he entered. Gabriel returned it as best he could, but the anxiousness in the Winchester's eyes just reminded him of a time that didn't seem so long ago when Sam was using this very ritual to hunt him down. With every intention of killing him no less. A part of him was grateful that he didn't remember that. As soon as Sam looked away, the smile slipped away.

The Trickster remained unusually quiet throughout the ritual, Sam noted in between bouts of nerves as Bobby read out the incantation sent directions to both him and his brother as the three of them carried out the ritual. Not even the passing sarcastic comments, or pointing out where they were going wrong, he'd simply correct it himself with a snap of his fingers or waft of his hand. From the short time he'd known the Trickster properly, it was odd for him not to point out mistakes with an accompanying snide remark. He just sat silently on a table at the side of the room, eyes fixed on the main sigil in the centre of the room, occasionally glancing at Cas who would disappear and reappear within a couple of seconds and give a minute shake of the head to the Trickster, not that it seemed to relax him to any extent, the tension was obvious.

A few minutes later, Bobby finished the incantation and the ritual was done. The group waited nervously, eyeing the sigil nervously and glancing around themselves, but as a tense minute limped by they looked to the Trickster who didn't seem that worried. He simply watched the knife or let his eyes tick sideways to his brother momentarily, the way they had been doing the whole time.

"What's happened?" Dean asked hurriedly, glancing around the room frantically, "It didn't work?"

"Did we do something wrong?" Sam asked quickly.

The Trickster didn't look up from staring at the knife, "Oh it worked, she's just trying to wriggle off the hook," he replied, adding a chuckle that seemed pretty forced, "Which would be possible without the knife."

Sam swallowed and nodded, sharing a look with his brother.

"You guys nervous?" the Trickster smirked, straightening his jacket and running a hand through his hair, "Don't you worry your pretty little heads," he flashed a smirked before his attention snapped back to the sigil and he took a step closer.

A bright flash of red light filled the room, forcing the hunters to throw up their arms to cover their eyes, lasting for several seconds before a gleeful chuckle accompanied it. An all too familiar tone that made Sam wince.

"So you came back for round three huh?" she chimed, excitedly as the light dimmed, revealing the tall red-haired woman stood in the centre of the sigil, one hand on her hip, the other brushing a few strands out of her eyes as she smirked at Sam.

Sam simply glowered, shuffling slightly in place.

"Ah but this time, we're playing tag team."

The look in the red-haired trickster eyes at the sight of her new opponent was enough to bring a small smirk to Sam's face. Seeing it, eliminated any form of nerves he had previously had about confronting this trickster once and for all. With a snap of his fingers, their enemy found her arms clamped to her sides by some invisible force. She raised her chin as their Trickster stepped forward a victorious smirk on his face.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow as he approached the trickster, "You messed with the wrong guy," he whispered, glancing over his shoulder, "Tricksters are usually smarter than to mess with us."

The Trickster's jaw clenched as she fought to hold Gabriel's gaze, "He doesn't know does he?" she hissed, ticking her eyes sideways to where Sam was watching.

Gabriel's lips tried to twitch into a smug smirk but whatever pride came with outsmarting the Trickster was written off by what outsmarting the Trickster had cost him, "He doesn't know anything."

The Trickster's eyes narrowed and a small smile crept onto her face, "I could tell him you know," she teased, forcing herself closer, "Ruin your whole little game."

"You'd die before your lips parted," Gabriel replied cheerily, successfully silencing any further comments from the Trickster. He spared her a small, sarcastic smile before raising a finger, "Now, I don't have much time before I've got to blow this joint. So I'm going to cut you a deal," he paused for dramatic effect, "You mosey on out of Sam Winchester's life. For good."

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "What do I get in return?"

"Oh you get the bonus prize," Gabriel replied, "You don't get me ripping you apart one extremity at a time over and over again from now until kingdom come," he finished with a polite smile that wiped the Trickster's expression back to fear laced neutral, "Do we have a deal?"

The Trickster clenched her jaw for a long moment, breathing quickly.

"You know the size of the world of hurt I can land you in," Gabriel chuckled, "And you don't want to go there. So do we have a deal?"

"Fine," she spat through gritted teeth, "Now let me go."

"One last thing," Gabriel snapped his fingers and the Trickster bent double with a scream of pain.

"What the hell did you do?" she yelled, grimacing once the pain had subsided enough so that she could speak.

Gabriel shrugged, "Call it an insurance policy. This way I won't have to go through so much ball-ache to find you," he smirked, "Now how about you piss off. I'll find you later."

She scowled, "But you said you'd drop it," she hissed.

Gabriel wrinkled his nose, "Mm, I don't think that's what I said. I still have beef with you. But not right now," he gave a small wave before snapping his fingers once again and the Trickster was gone.

There was a moment's silence in which Gabriel took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair before turning to the others. Point number one was finally off his list. Even if he hadn't finished with her, the enochian he had marked her with would mean she was no longer able to hide from him again. That's if he survived the next few days. At that thought, any relief he might have felt having gotten this done was eradicated. He allowed himself a second to compose himself before turning to the Winchesters with a clap of his hands.

"Well boys," he announced, "This has been fun, but I gotta split."

Dean and Sam frowned. The former with a slight angrier edge to it than his brother.

"What the hell?"Dean yelled, "You didn't do anything!"

Gabriel didn't rise to the volume that Dean had gone to, "I've still got bigger fish to fry right now. But don't worry, you're not on her to do list anymore."

Sam's frown wasn't abated, "So, that's it? You're leaving?"

He gave an apologetic shrug, doing his best to block out the genuine sorrow that he could feel rolling off the younger Winchester, "This was never a permanent gig, kid. I might drop in from time to time after I've sorted out a few things. If I didn't think I'd get my throat slit that is."

Sam chuckled ever so slightly, but Dean wasn't for laughing, his incredulous expression was still firmly in place, "Sorted some things out? Are you serious?"

Gabriel's eyes narrowed, "You don't want to do there Dean. You would not believe the hell I have been through and to come back here to fix your little messes you would be kissing the ground at my feet!"

"Oh yeah?" Dean yelled, "And whose fault is this little mess?"

Sam frowned slightly looking between the two of them. Gabriel's throat bobbed as he swallowed before his expression darkened. He took a step forward and opened his mouth only to stop as Cas appeared beside him, a look on his face panicked enough to make everyone stop in their tracks.

Cas stared fearfully at his brother for a long moment before licking his lips, "Brother. Raphael is almost upon us."

**Hey thar, sorry for the delay, took a short break to sort out plot and stuff. Stupid plot getting in the way of a good fanfiction…**

**Still sorry for the poor quality! I hope you still enjoy it, thank you for sticking with meeee. Please let me know what you think?**

**I love you all so muccchhh xxxx**


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